Blanket of Shadows
by Writerdragon
Summary: Life was a clockwork day in and day out. Everyone woke up at a certain time, everyone went to bed at a same time. Life is perfect here in Unova, just like a utopia. Cilan knew what was creeping behind the shadows; evil and corruption. AU. Dark Cilan/Iris.
1. Adulthood

**Yeah, this is another fanfiction I'm writing. I'm not sure why, but I'm really in a Pokémon mood (but I've been obsessed with Pokémon since I was nine). So here we go. I'm warning you right now: this is extremely dark. In fact, this might be the first fanfiction of mine that will probably (a good 99.99% chance) have a sad ending.**

**LET ME MAKE THIS CLEAR.**

**If this does have a sad ending (which it will), don't whine about it, don't bitch about it; act like adults, please. Don't flame me; just don't. I will be seriously pissed. I suggest you leave now. Just go.**

**Okay. Now that I have said that; this is a Wishfulshipping. A dark Wishfulshipping.**

**Oh yeah, I'm trying out the English names. And this is AU. Total AU. This fanfiction is a test for myself and test the grounds of this fandom.**

**Also, I will keep OCs from here. There will be Cilan and his brother's "mother" and "father," but they are not OCs. They will be only in here for this chapter and this chapter alone (well, maybe the second chapter too). So, yep.**

**Enjoy.**

**You're gunna be all like "WHAT DID I JUST READ?"**

* * *

><p><em>Blanket of Shadows<em>

Adulthood

I

"_We are the same; we are One."_

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><p>Society was like perfect clockwork. Everything was perfect; everything was unchanging.<p>

* * *

><p>"<em>Unova must be separated from the world; after all, we are far superior to the rest."<em>

* * *

><p>Cilan hated being controlled. Everything in Unova was controlled. They referred to it as "regulation." There was a fine-line between "regulation" and "control." Out-right control, might he add. People never said anything about it; they were blissful in their ignorance and servant-hood. He'd get it all the time from his parents and others:<p>

"Oh, Cilan, why can't you be like everyone else and just accept?"

Cilan felt like he was trapped in his own skin. He had to admit it; he had turned out to be quite the actor. He made shitting people into an art form. Cilan wanted to be different, but that made him into a social deviant. When he wanted to learn how to cook, people looked at him oddly (only cooks cooked, and he was not a cook). And when he wanted to speak in a more articulate form and use food metaphors and such, it was frowned upon ("what a strange boy," they would say). For a while, his parents thought that he needed a shrink.

He sighed, nudged his Pansage, and approached his bicycle that was resting against a tree, and rode off.

* * *

><p>"<em>People used to follow things called 'religions' and praised these creatures called 'gods.' One 'god' was called 'Arceus.' Do any of you know what a religion and god is?"<em>

* * *

><p>The clouds were darkened above the Community of Striaton. Those huge black and grey masses moved slowly across the sky, threatening to drop rain upon its inhabitants. Cilan paused his bicycle, staring up at the heavens above as his Pansage clung to his shoulders.<p>

"I don't remember rain in the weather report," the teenage male said to his Pokémon.

"Pan, pana," Pansage said, agreeing with his Owner.

Cilan blinked, and started to bicycle again, heading to his home. Tomorrow was the day he was going to be sent away to the Boarding Home, where all boys and girls go to prepare to adulthood. He was saddened to leave his mother and father, but he knew it had to be done; for the good of society, of course. He would never see his parents again, which startled him, but soon he would forget about them, just like his parents forgot about their parents when they arrived to the Boarding Home when they were young (sometimes Cilan would wonder how that could ever happen).

Cilan made a turn with his bicycle, and slowed his pace. He did not want to hit any of the people walking by him. His eyes turned to a small girl who sat on a bench at the park, her Scraggy clinging to her playfully. All Pokémon were given to children by the Head Master of Striaton, like all children in Unova got their Pokémon from the Head Masters of their Communities. He was five when he got his Pansage. Ever since then, both were inseparable, and he was now eighteen.

* * *

><p>"<em>Pokémon are mere tools."<em>

* * *

><p>But only <em>children<em> could have Pokémon (and only one Pokémon), not _adults_. It was not seen as proper. Soon he and his brothers would have to give up their Pokémon to the Community, where they were never seen again. But he knew it would happen, and he would never see his Pansage again after that, but it had to be done. He had been preparing for that day ever since he was fifteen when he had found that truth out.

Cilan knew he would miss his Pansage (like he would miss his parents). When he would talk to adults who had given their Pokémon to the Community, they ended up forgetting their Pokémon all together. Many would say: "I _know_ I had _one_. I just can't remember him . . . or her. I can't remember." How could that just happen? How could you just forget about your best friend?

His Pansage clung to his shoulders, and nuzzled against Cilan lovingly. "Pan, pansa," his Pansage stated, his lithe tail twitching.

Cilan beamed at his Pokémon. "We're almost home," he announced to the green monkey Pokémon. "Then I can trim your foliage."

Pansage's tree-like foliage was quite big now, and it was that time of month again to cut it back to a smaller size. The Pokémon seemed to like the idea very much, and expressed it by hugging his Owner's face. Cilan smiled, a little blush appearing on his cheeks.

"I thought you might like that."

His heart ached about the fact that his Pansage would be taken from him, like Chili's Pansear would be taken and Cress' Panpour would be too. After all, adults don't need Pokémon. Children needed Pokémon to keep them company, but when Adulthood came, there was no need; work would replace that. Part of Cilan regretted that he was becoming an adult; he wanted to stay a child forever to keep his Pansage. But if he were to tell anyone, they would simply say: "Adulthood comes with ache and heartbreak, but time will heal those wounds."

Cilan would only nod and agree. After all, they were the adults, and he was the child. They knew what was best. Right . . .?

The teenage male soon arrived to his home. It was a small home with white trim and a sprawling front yard where he, his brothers, and their Pokémon used to play Cowboys and Indians. The walkway swirled up the small mound of land where the home sat proudly. This was an old home, compared to the newer ones that where rectangle-shaped and sat side to side; almost squished together like cereal boxes on a shelf. He heard that once his parents were too old to care for themselves and after they had been sent to the Senior Home, the house would be torn down to make several box-homes.

Cilan slipped off his bicycle, and guided to the backyard, where he placed it against the wall of the exterior of the home. Cilan grinned, allowing the sun to seep on his skin as he stood there in his place. The backyard of his home was small, but doable. There was a swing where he and his brothers used to take turns playing on. His Pansage jumped from his shoulders, and onto that said swing, sitting down on it. Cilan stared at his Pokémon. He then chuckled, understanding what his Pansage wanted.

"Alright, I'll push you," Cilan said, walking behind his Pokémon, and gently pushed him. "But not for long, alright?"

Pansage's eyes were closed blissfully as his Owner gently pushed him. "Pan, panna," Pansage said jubilantly.

The soon-to-be-adult smiled at his Pokémon fondly. "You've been a good Pokémon, you know that," he whispered, his smile falling from his lips. "You've been my best friend, you know." He stared intently at his Pokémon. "I'm going to miss you when they take you away . . ."

He stopped pushing his Pokémon, staring out vacantly into nowhere. His mind reeled. How could he just forget about his Pokémon and his parents so easily like his parents had the many others that lived in the region of Unova? How could that have been possible? Cilan felt his Pokémon nudge him gently, and he snapped out of his trance, staring at the confused Pansage.

"Pansage, pan?" the small green Pokémon said, pawing at his Owner.

Cilan quickly smiled, and scooped up his Pokémon. "I think we agreed to trim your foliage, did we not?" he inquired, touching the small tree on top of his Pokémon's head.

"Pansage!" the Pokémon said, forgetting about his Owner's odd behavior.

Cilan smiled sadly before entering his home. From where he stood he entered the small kitchen and could easily see the living room. The house was small in the front, but had large rooms and well-equipped bathrooms as well as high ceilings. Pansage crawled from his Owner's shoulders, and sat on the counter, waiting for his Owner to return with the readied supplies. He came back with a towel and scissors, and commenced in his work after placing his dear Pokémon on top of the towel.

Cilan's mind was adrift as he clipped back the small leaves on his Pokémon's head tree. And there it was again: the weird flashing that he had been experiencing since he was very young. He paused, and watched as his Pokémon flashed something he could have never described with the proper language. His eyes focused as he drew his hands back, watching as the flashing subsided and faded into normality. Whatever this was, he never brought it up—ever since he was young, he has watched his Pokémon, the trees, and the grass just tremble and shake into something he had never seen before. Cilan closed his eyes, took in a stale breath, and resumed his trimming. His Pansage was purring practically as his Owner clipped back the stray and dense leaves. The human paid no attention to his Pokémon as he thought deeply; then he spoke:

"You are an amazing Pokémon, you know," Cilan whispered. "I'll terribly miss you." He continued to clip at the leaves. "You're my b-best friend." He stopped, and hung his head.

Pansage glanced up, seeing the troubled look upon his Owner's face. He shifted, staring up into his swirling irises. "Pansage?" the Pokémon whispered in a confused tone.

Cilan scooped up the Pokémon, and held him close to his chest, hoping to press his Pansage's soul into his chest—as if to keep him safe forever. The Pokémon was confused by his Owner's actions, but he hugged him in return as if to comfort him.

That was when the front door opened, and Cilan glance up sadly. His brothers, their Pokémon, and the triplet's parents entered through the door. The boy with the Pansage stared at the family for a moment, and then he forced a smile upon his face.

"Hello," Cilan stated. "How was the shopping?"

Cress and Chili placed bags on the counter, and their mother smiled at her sons. Their father approached, grinning at Cilan, and ruffled his hair. "How are you, son?" he inquired. "Are you ready for tomorrow?"

Cilan nodded his head robotically. "Yes, Father," he said.

"Everything's packed?"

"Yes, did that last night."

"Good, good," he said. He turned to Chili. "And you too?"

"Yeah, Father," Chili said, smoothing back his wild hair.

Cilan watched his brother. He was so calm and mild-mannered, unlike before where he was a bit of a trouble-maker and a flirt (which made many people mad; it's wrong to flirt to girls, after all, flirting was frowned upon). It was decided that Chili had to be sent to a small all-boy's camp where they rectified problems like this. When he returned after five months, he was a completely different person. He used to be so full of life and playful, now he was like an obedient child; he never spoke, he never flirted with girls, and he was so dull and boring. Cilan did not know what to think, but the Community was happy for his obvious progress. However, Cilan lost his brother. Cress, too, thought that it was odd that he morphed into another personality over a span of five months, but never said a word.

Their parents seemed to like the change. They said that he "was acting in the proper way."

"Good, great," their father said. "Well, let's all have dinner and then you boys get some rest. You have a big day tomorrow."

* * *

><p><strong>Confused? Good.<strong>

**Going: "WTF did I just read?" Good.**

**If you're wondering why Cilan doesn't have his totally awesome speech patterns, there is a reason. You may not notice it in here, but maybe in the next chapters you will.**

**And those random sentences spliced into the text; there's a reason for that as well. You'll see. You'll see.**


	2. New transfer girl

**I was going to update this on Thursday, but then I noticed I'm on page 22 on the Pokémon fandom, so I decided to update.**

**Wow. I'm surprised that people liked this. .3. I was sure I was gunna get flammed.**

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><p>New transfer girl<p>

II

"Did you hear of the news of the new Transfer Girl?" Cress inquired to his brother while pushing a bang from his eyes. He then reached down for his suitcase as he waited for his brother to respond to his question. Panpour watched his Owner with little interest as he sat at the foot of Cress' bed.

Cilan blinked, turning to look at his brother as he smoothed down the front of his shirt. "Um, no, I don't think so," he said as his hands reached up to fix his hair upon mere habit.

Cress placed his suitcase on his bed, and opened it, placing some last-minute items into it. "I heard of it from the newspaper," he said curtly. "She's from Opelucid Community."

Chili glanced up to stare at his brothers, his Pansear clinging to his shoulders. "Oh, I've heard of her," he said, his suitcase also sitting on his bed. "I heard she screwed up pretty badly at her home, and they couldn't handle her anymore."

Cilan blinked, staring at his other brother. "What did she do?" he inquired with a gasp, his Pokémon also on his shoulders.

"I'm not sure," Chili said. "But she's now coming here to the Boarding Home; our home."

He blinked again. Their Community was going to hold a wild-child girl? If Opelucid couldn't keep her in line, what gave Straiton the idea that it could? If she kept this bad behavior going, she may get into worse trouble. Like there was a man in Castelia who was speaking up against the Head Masters of all the Communities, even the Authority. He was also breaking social boundaries such as painting (a sort of activity people in old times used to do, but now was frowned upon), and keeping bug Pokémon (he was an adult!) in his home (Cilan couldn't remember what his name was). Eventually he was arrested, and never heard from again. Soon people began to forget about him (except Cilan).

Was this new girl like that too? If she continued to do such things, she may end up much like the painter. He frowned, and continued to collect small, last-minute items. He entered their small half-bathroom, glancing over anything that he might have missed. Chili came into the bathroom with him, his face sullen and his eyes dull, lifeless orbs ever since he was sent away. Cilan turned to look at his brother.

"How are you, Chili?" he inquired carefully.

Dull orbs shot up, staring at Cilan. "I'm fine, why?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

Cilan's eyes looked him over, the Pansage on the boy's shoulder shifted to look at the other human as well. "Nothing, just wondering," Cilan said, faking a calm smile.

Another complacent stare from the boy with the Pansear and then a nod of the head. "Alright," he agreed readily, glancing over the bathroom before leaving.

Cilan watched his brother go, his façade smile dropping from his lips. He turned to his Pansage. "What did they do to him?" he whispered, a worried tone in his voice.

"Pansage, pan," the Pokémon agreed softly.

Even their Pokémon had noticed the change in their brother, and Pansear did not like it. He missed playing with his Owner. Even _he_ knew something was wrong. The poor Pansear was now just being ignored as he axiously waited for Chili to pay attention to him once more, like the good old days.

Cilan looked in the mirror at his reflection, and then again, there was the random flashing. His Pansage, his eyes, his hair, and random places in their room were flashing that weird visual hallucination. He stared at himself before it slowly subsided, and came to a complete halt. He closed his eyes, and exhaled deeply. He hated those flashes, but at the same time it intrigued him greatly. Why did he have those jolts of whatever those things were? Did others suffer from it as well? And if so, what was it?

Pansage stared at his Owner, and nudged his face gently with his fat paw. "Pansage pan?" he said, cocking his head to the side.

Cilan blinked, and turned to look up at his Pokémon with a smile. "I'm fine," he said, gently patting his Pokémon on the shoulder.

There was some shuffling, and then a voice: "Cilan! The van's here!"

Cilan shot his head up. "Coming!" he called, rushing from the bathroom and grabbed his fat suitcase along the way.

* * *

><p>Their father and mother stood by the van that was going to take the triplets to their new home. Both were smiling gently at the boys. The mother sighed, her hand just over her breast. "My dear boys," she whispered with a small smile, "you're growing up."<p>

Cress smiled at his mother, and nodded his head. "Yes, Mother," he breathed, throwing his suitcase into the large van's back seats.

She nodded her head, and gave her son a gentle pat on the shoulder. "I knew this day was coming," she said in a low tone. "But it happened so soon. One day you three were little babies, and now you're adults."

Cress nodded, and Chili and Cilan stood on opposite sides of their brother. Cilan watched as several uniformed men go into the backyard, and grab his bike, and threw it into another van. They were probably going to throw it away. After all, adults don't use bicycles, they drive cars. He felt a small twinge in his heart that his bicycle was going to be thrown out (or reused for another pre-teenager), but he knew it had to be done.

Their father gently squeezed his wife's shoulder, and smiled at the three boys. "Now you boys be good, and do what the Head Master wants," he said with a grin.

"We will, Father," Chili quickly agreed, his Pansear sitting dejectedly on his shoulders.

Cress and Cilan exchanged looks.

The mother smiled, and held her sons tightly. "You take care," she said, finally pulling away from them. "Take care of yourselves and each other."

Cilan nodded, smiling at his mother. "Goodbye, Mother," he said, and then he turned to his father. "Goodbye, Father."

"Goodbye, Cilan," he said, shaking hands with his son for the final time until Cilan pulled away and entered the van.

He picked the seat closest to the window, and glanced out of it, waiting for his brothers to say their goodbyes as well. Pansage crawled into his Owner's lap, and basked in his long pets. Cilan continued to stare out the window (Cress now sat next to him), and he watched as a small plane streaked across the sky, and towards the centre of the town.

"I bet that's the Transfer Girl," Cress whispered, his Panpour shifted on his shoulders. "See? That's Opelucid's symbol."

He pointed to the dragon-shaped icon painted on the hull of the plane as it moved along.

"I think you're right," Cilan said, glancing up, meeting eyes with the driver. He looked just like his brother Chili—dull and utterly lifeless. Listless in every way.

When Chili and Pansear entered the car, the driver turned on the engine, and started to drive away. Cilan watched as his home started to get smaller and smaller the further they drove away from it. He was surely going to miss home.

* * *

><p>The Boarding Home was huge. It was a large brick building with a heavy, two-door entrance, and the human creation stood proudly over the small soon-to-be adults entering it. Cilan craned his neck up to see if he could the roof of the building, but to no prevail.<p>

"Cilan! Let's go!" Cress cried, staring at his dumbfounded brother.

Cilan glanced at Cress, and walked along. Teenagers of all sizes and looks were here with their Pokémon, some silent, some laughing with their friends, others alone, and some with siblings. There were a total of fifty or so teenagers.

The building itself was grand inside as well as out. Marble floor was cleaned and waxed; the walls were painted cream with no fingerprints of scuffs. Large lights hung elegantly from the high wood ceilings, illuminating the darkness away with all their might. There were many hallways and rooms with their closed doors and such. Cilan wondered where each one went. All were herded into a large auditorium with a stage at the front and many long tables with seats. Each teenager took their seats, and started to talk amongst themselves.

"Why are we here?" Cilan inquired to Cress.

"I think the Head Master is going to speak to us," Cress answered.

Chili was silent, and hardly paid any attention to what was happening around him. His Pansear moved to sit on the table, and looked up to his Owner, hoping that he would notice him. Chili didn't; he just stared off into space dully. The Pansear stared sadly at the human boy before sitting down dejectedly on the table. Cilan watched the lonely Pokémon, feeling pity for it. He reached across, patting the Pokémon on the head. Pansear looked up with a surprised expression, and received a smile from Cilan. He smiled back.

"Pan, pansear," the Pokémon said, happy that someone paid attention to him.

Pansage approached the Pokémon, and both started to play on the table gently. One girl with a Pidove watched with a smile, and whispered something to her friend who had a Snivy in her arms. Cilan smiled at both of them, and waved his hand, receiving girlish giggles from them. Both were very cute girls, but they did not interest him; all the girls here were the same.

Soon the talking was hushed, clapping ensued, and a tall, nimble man walked onto the stage, and towards the podium. He glanced up, his hard as rock eyes staring upon the teenagers with a blank expression. He waited much like a humble man for the clapping to stop before speaking:

"My children, welcome to the Boarding Home. I know you all miss your families, but now you are entering adulthood, and you must forget your families to then start your own. I know it seems hard, and the pain of losing your family hurts you, but in time those wounds will heal, and you can move on with your wonderful life so that you can contribute to the Community just as your parents had."

He turned to his right, and motioned his hand to a guard.

"I would like all of you to give a warm welcome to Iris Rockwell," he continued. "She is a young woman from Opelucid Community, and she really needs a warm welcome. She's having a bit of difficultly, so let us all be very kind to her. Iris, dear, come on out."

A dark-skinned girl with long hair down past her buttocks walked up onto the stage, and Cilan felt the blood rush to his cheeks. She was a beautiful girl. This Iris had a round face and a thin body with long, slender legs that peaked out under her bow-clad skirt. She held an Axew close to her breast as she gazed out uncertainly to the crowd. She looked scared, and unsure of herself. Cilan stared at her as she walked up next to the Head Master, and he placed a hand to her shoulder.

"This is Iris Rockwell," he announced. "Say 'hello' to Iris, shall we?"

"Hello, Iris," all the teenagers said in unison.

Iris twitched uncomfortably, hugging her Axew tightly to her breast.

"Okay, then go pick out your seat," he said, moving out his hand towards the direction of the tables.

This Iris moved quickly as if she was trying to tear herself from the hard stares, and sat at a secluded table. She held her Axew, her eyes darting from side to side. Cilan watched her with interest.

"Now, since you are now becoming adults, and soon your Pokémon," he continued. "After you give them up, you will acquire the jobs that you have signed up for, which will be tomorrow. Sign-ups for jobs will be tomorrow. And remember; pick out the job you think that is best, because that job you picked out will be the one you will have forever."

Cilan started to ignore the man as he watched Iris. She seemed very lonely and frightened that she was in a new place with new people. She knew no one, and she was thrown into a place where she had never visited. The poor thing must have been horrified. Iris' eyes glanced up, and met with his. Cilan smiled at her, and calmly waved his hand. She weakly smiled back, and nodded her head.

"And your Pokémon will be taken by the Community, where they will serve a wonderful cause. Yes, you will never see them again, but you will move on, and with time, those wounds will heal, and you'll just simply forget."

Cilan slid down to the end of the long seat he was on, his Pansage perched perfectly on his shoulders. Iris seemed surprised that he was paying attention to her (and he was cute too!), and it made her face become very warm. She looked up to the Head Master, and then back to Cilan, motioning her hands for him to join her. She wanted some company, and this boy seemed nice enough. Cilan blinked, surprised by her offer, and turned up to the speaker in his uncertainty.

"As for your families, time will also help you forget them as you move on to create your own families. Your mate will be picked out for you, and if you want to have children, you must apply for one. After all, we must keep the population at a certain level. Every year, five slots will open up, and you must apply for one spot. If you want to have children, you cannot have any more than three."

Cilan wasn't sure if he should move; he just twitched in his seat. The young man chould feel Iris' eyes on him, to which he turned to look back at her confused face. He glanced up at guards, who were glancing over the teenage audience with obedience, much like a Growlithe would watch over a flock of Mareep. He turned back to Iris, who was looking at him still. She mouthed: "what's wrong?" and he motioned his head to the guards. She looked and them, and then shrugged, and she went back to motion for him to visit her. He shook his head, and motioned down his hands, mouthing "soon" and "later" to her. She stared at him, and then nodded, understanding his concern.

That was then she shifted as if she was going to move to him, and he shook his head. He didn't want her to get in trouble.

"When you get too old to work, we place you in the Senior Home, where you will be cared for in your final days. So remember: tomorrow is the day for job sign-up. Packets describing each job will be placed up at the front so you can fully understand what each job is. Thank you for your time."

There was clapping, and the shuffling of people. Cilan stood up, loosing Iris in the crowd. He frowned, and went to the table where the pamphlets with the job descriptions were. He grabbed one, noticing that another hand was grabbing it as well. Eyes locked, and the owner of the other hand smiled at him.

"Hello," she breathed.

Cilan laughed. "Hello, Iris," he said to her. "Here you go. We can share." He released his grip on the packet, giving it fully to her.

She smiled, her Axew clinging to her shirt. "C'mon, let's go," she said, moving away from the crowd and to a table in the back. She sprawled out the packet, staring at the job descriptions. "What's your name?"

"I'm Cilan Bourgeois," he said, placing a hand over his heart. "And this is Pansage."

"Pan," the Pokémon greeted.

"Ax, axew," the dragon Pokémon returned, getting on the table, joining the monkey Pokémon.

Iris smiled, placing a hand to her Pokémon. "This is Axew," she said.

"Lovely," he said, turning up to see his brothers at a table with others, talking and sharing (Chili being silent). Cilan turned back down to look at her as he took his seat. "S-so, why are you here?"

Iris laughed coldly, turning to look away. "A lot of things," she said in a growl. "They say I'm too wild."

* * *

><p>"<em>Individualism must be destroyed. After all, if there is individualism there is no obedience."<em>

* * *

><p>Cilan blinked. "Oh?" he breathed. "What did you do?"<p>

She seemed reluctant to answer as her eyes grazed over him with curiosity and suspicion. He placed his hand to his chest and held up his hand.

"I won't breathe a word of what you tell me," he assured her.

Iris still had that look that read: "Sorry, boy, but I just don't trust you enough." She glanced at the pamphlet, and opened it up, reading the jobs that were being offered. His hand dropped, and then he frowned. Cilan would have to give her some time.

"I'm sorry, it's just I don't know you," she said, her voice drifting as she turned the pages.

"No, no, I understand," he said with a smile. "Take your time."

She stared at him, surprised, but then she grinned. "Good, I could really use a friend," Iris said with lustrous eyes.

"Well, I believe that I can help you with that." He smiled, and glanced down at the paper book she had. "Well, what job fancies you?" Cilan inquired with a grin, his head resting against his hand.

Iris blinked, and then let out a throaty sigh as she slumped forward. "I'm not sure," she said. "They all seem so boring."

He looked at her, curious. "Oh, come now, don't act in that fashion," Cilan said, grabbing the book, turning it to him. "You'll find something." He paused, looking over the text. "What about the Hatchery?"

"Hatchery?" Iris inquired.

"That seems fun," he said with a smile. "We tend to Pokémon eggs and baby Pokémon."

A bright smile flushed over her face. "That seems nice," she said, turning to her Axew, knowing that she would soon lose him. "I'll take that job."

"Are you sure?"

"Oh, yeah. Hey, how about you do too. That way we can spend more time together and get to know each other better."

Cilan liked the idea.

* * *

><p><strong>Is is just me, or do Cilan and his brothers seem FRENCH?<strong>


	3. Jobs for list

**UPDATE. I'm so awesome.**

**Sorry it's a little short; the next chapter will be longer.**

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><p>Jobs for list<p>

III

The set up of the sleeping areas were set up like a hotel. Each room would fit three people (the three beds were lined up against the north wall), which was nice because Cilan could bunk with his brothers rather than two other strangers. The building was split up into two halves—the female wing and the male wing. It was set up like that so that the males and the females would not interact after the work hours; it was not proper. The room the brothers now lived in was the upper floor, and one could easily look over the bright, shimmering lights of Straiton Community at night; an aura of white light radiated outward, causing a ballon of light to be compressed by the dark night sky. Cilan fell onto his bed with a tired flop, and looked up blankly at the ceiling. Cress turned his way, his water-like hair swishing as he moved.

"Hey, are you alright," Cress called to his brother, arching an eyebrow to him.

The other brother moved his head to where his brother was at. "Yeah, just a little tired," Cilan said, rolling on his side, reaching out to his Pansage, who quickly went to his open arms. "That's all. What did you decide to do for your job?"

Cress blinked, and then shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not sure," he said. "There's a lot of choices and the job I pick is the one I'll stay in for the rest of my life. It's a tough choice."

Cilan nodded, reaching up to stroke his Pokémon's head.

"Did you pick out the one you wanted? Or are you still looking?"

"No, I picked," Cilan responded.

"Oh? Which one?"

"I'm going to work at the Pokémon Hatchery," Cilan answered.

"Oh," Cress said, unloading his items from his suitcase. His Panpour sat on the bed next to his Owner's fat bag. "You get to work with Pokémon. That's nice."

Cilan smiled gently. "Yeah, it is," he said, pulling his Pansage into his arms fondly and tightly. His eyes glanced up, looking at Chili who was resting on his bed, his hands behind his head. "What about you?"

Chili turned to his brother. "What about me?" he inquired.

"What job do you want to do?"

"I'm not sure," Chili answered, his Pansear sitting on his chest, wanting his attention. "I'm still thinking about it." He looked at his Pokémon, and patted its head before letting his hand fall limp at his side.

Cilan stared at his brother for a moment before sitting up on his new bed. The first brother stared at his suitcase, and mentally decided to unpack it, after all, this place was his new home. He then started to unpack his clothing and such, and placed them into his own dresser drawer. There were other items that were provided in the room—a small television, three bed-side tables, a few pictures that hung on two walls and two lamps that sat on two other tables. It was very hotel-like. Cilan turned to the window that pointed out to the open night sky, and pushed it open. He glanced out, looking down. They were on the fifth level of the building, and he could see the large courtyard, which had a fountain in the centre and large patches of cleanly-cut grass and neatly-trimmed bushes.

"I saw you talking to the new girl," Cress called, removing his shirt and tossed it onto his bed.

Cilan turned around, arching his eyebrow to his brother. "And?" he said.

"What's she like?"

"Um, a little mistrusting," Cilan answered, turning back to the open window to watch as the last sliver of the sun fade away behind the mountains. "But I'll get to know her better with time. She seems nice, though."

"But if the rumors are true, better be careful with her." Cress nodded, and took off his pants, pushing them to the side as he put on his pajamas. "C'mon, Cilan, Chili, time for us to sleep," he said, his Panpour curling up into a tight ball on one of his many fluffy, fat pillows. He stood up, and approached the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Cilan stayed perched at the windowsill, staring outside; his Pansage clinging to his shoulders. The Pokémon then yawned, and rubbed at its eyes tiredly. The human smiled tenderly at his Pokémon, nudging him gently with his hand.

"Alright, time for you to sleep," he said, scooping up his Pokémon in his arms, and moved to his bed, placing the green monkey on a pillow.

Cilan tenderly smiled, and patted his Pokémon on the head before looking up at his brother. Chili was also getting ready for sleep, and once in a while staring at his own Pokémon. He had a small, broken smile on his lips; however, it was nothing compared to the smiles he used to see from his brother before they took him away.

* * *

><p>"<em>Lobotomy is the most effective and perfect way to fix socially deviant children."<em>

* * *

><p>Cilan shook his head, and started to dress himself for sleep as did Chili. After all, sleep was essential, and they needed sleep for tomorrow, which was a big day for the triplets. Cilan turned off the lights, and cuddled into his bed as he pulled his half-asleep Pokémon close to his chest. As he sat there in his bed, his mind drifted. What would life be like now? What about Iris? How would she fit in with the move? She was obviously scared, but he would look after her. He'd taken a liking to her, for some reason. But no matter why, he would look after her.<p>

And as he started to fall asleep, a tune from outside played, and he heard the sounds of a faint _beep-beep_ sound. He furrowed his brows, curious as to what it was. He was sure he had heard it before all his life, but it was closer and louder than before. Cilan blinked, and then shrugged as he tenderly wrapped his arm around his dear Pansage. A ghost of a yawn passed his lips, and he nuzzled back into the plush pillow. Soon sleep was upon him.

* * *

><p>Cilan's eyes fluttered open, and he yawned. He had awoken some time ago, but he was still delirious with sleep. His Pansage held onto his Owner's shoulders, nudging at Cilan to keep him awake. "Pan, pansage," the Pokémon said, cocking his head to the side.<p>

"Oh, Pansage," he muttered, rubbing his palm into his eye gently. "I'm sorry; I'm just tired."

Cress yawned, rubbing at his back. "Me as well," he answered, his Panpour also perched on his shoulder comfortably.

Chili stood, looking up at the large digital billboard, which listed all the jobs, his Pokémon clinging to the boy's shoulders.

"I fell asleep like a log, but now I can't wake up," Cress stated, reaching up to comb back his hair behind his ear. He turned to the third brother. "Chili, what do you think? How are you alright?"

Chili looked over to his brothers, his eyes lazy and dull. "Me? I'm alright," he said, smacking his lips. "Drowsy, yeah . . ." He reached up to rub at his neck.

Teenagers shuffled around the open room, waiting for the person to assign the jobs to them. The room was spacious and elegant. Potted plants sat in the corner with pride almost that they were neatly trimmed and cared for. Some teenagers were standing around with their Pokémon; others were sitting in one of the many comfortable couches that were pressed perfectly against the cleaned walls; even thr floor looked as if one could eat off it (though that would not be the smartest thing to do). Cilan glanced up, staring at the large chandelier that hung with pride above everyone else. The light from it stretched mightily across the walls and the ceiling, almost banishing every shadow.

Cilan yawned, and reached up with his arms to have a nice stretch. He smacked his lips and rubbed at his lower back as an exhausted grunt passed his moistened lips.

"Pan," Pansage said, still nudging his Owner awake.

"I'm still here," Cilan stated, a small grin on his lips, reaching up with his hand to stroke his Pokémon's soft fur. "I think I need another cup of coffee. The one back at home wasn't strong enough." He glanced up, hoping to see a table that had a coffee peculator and sugar and other needed supplies. He grinned when he saw a small table that held a coffee maker and such, and he quickly approached it, but then he paused, whipping around to look at his brothers. "Do you two want some coffee?"

"Yes, please," Cress answered politely.

"Yeah," Chili breathed blandly.

Cilan nodded, turned around, and moved over to the table. He grabbed three throw-away cups, and three packets of compacted coffee. Cilan opened up the coffee maker, and inserted one bag of grounded beans into the device. He closed it, and he heard it started to operate. Just then, two hands grabbed at his hips, startled him. There was a laugh, and he whipped around, staring at his "attacker."

"I-Iris?"

The long-haired teenager laughed, her hands pressed to her stomach. "You should have seen the look on your face," Iris laughed, a brimming smile on her features.

Her Axew snorted, a playful grin on his lips. Cilan's Pansage's tail twitched, its large paw resting on his shoulders before letting out a sigh.

"I-Iris, you scared me," Cilan said, and then there was a "click" from the device behind him. He turned to it. "Do you want some coffee?"

"Naw, I don't need it," she said, making a dismissive gesture with her hand.

"Good," Cilan stated. "I don't think you really need it."

Iris grinned from ear to ear, her hands behind her back, her Axew still poking out of her hair, looking at the other human. "I'm running off my own caffeine," she said, giggling slightly. "I call it Iriseine."

"Iriseine?"

"Yep, 'Iris' and 'caffeine' combined," Iris stated, her fingers touching their tips together. "Iriseine."

Cilan arched a thin brow to her, and then he chuckled. She was a different type of person all together. Very exotic and appealing to him. He felt his cheeks become hot, and he whipped around, finding the coffee device of more interest. He took the cup, and placed it to the side, and repeated the process with another cup. He moved to the sugar bags, and opened two, pouring it into the cup filled with coffee.

"So, are you ready for sign-ups?" he inquired, stirring the sugar in the hot brown liquid with a stir-stick, and slowly added cream from a spouted container.

"Yep, you're still for Hatchery, right?"

"Oh, of course," Cilan said, grinning. "I would love to work with baby Pokémon."

Iris nodded, her eyes distant in thought. "That would be nice," she said, looking out the window. "Yeah, that would be nice."

He watched her and her vacant look, and he cocked his head to the side. A flicker. Something flickered with her hair. He blinked, unsure of what to do. It was like when he looked at his Pansage, the trees, the grass, and his hair and eyes. But it was different. He had never seen it before. And soon, it was gone in a flash. Cilan squeezed his eyes shut, and then opened them, seeing that everything was normal.

"Cilan, you okay?"

He shivered, and then he forced a gentle smile on his lips. "I'm fine, I'm just a little sleepy," Cilan replied.

"Me too. I barely slept last night."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she said, her eyes dark. It was odd. She was so youthful and bright, but the way she looked down made him think that she was hiding something from him. Then she lit up like a light bulb, and grinned at him as if nothing was wrong. "The Hatchery is going to be fun, right?"

He stared at her, drinking in what he was seeing. Iris was acting odd. _She_ was odd. "Yes, of course," Cilan agreed robotically. "Yes."

Soon the teenagers were gravitating into a line at the reception desk, and Iris and Cilan glanced up. "Oh," Iris breathed, her Axew nestling back into her thick hair, "they're taking sign-ups now."

Cilan nodded, taking the second cup from the device. "Okay, I'll be right there," he said.

She nodded, beamed, and then rushed off to the line. He watched her, confused, and then went back to the last cup, filling it with his coffee. How strange she acted. He wondered about the people who had raised her and what they where like. Had they been just like her? And when he started to think back about his family and how he was raised, he froze. His eyes grew large as his hands began to tremble.

He couldn't remember his mother and father.

* * *

><p><strong>The answer to what is wrong with Chili is in this chapter.<strong>


	4. Hatchery

**Do any of you hate this new set-up? I know I do.**

**Eh, I'll get used to it.**

* * *

><p>Hatchery<p>

IV

Cilan was a little disturbed that he could not remember his parents. And the more he thought about it, the more he could not recall most of his childhood. It was rather chilling, now that he really thought of it. But he had to relax. Maybe he could not just remember because he just could not. Maybe he would in time. Right? But now he should be happy. He was going to get his job! He was excited for his first day. Cilan combed out his hair, his Pansage sitting on the bed next to him. His large paws tugged at his Owner's shirt; smiling up at him like a youthful child.

"Pan, pansage pan," the Pokémon stated merrily.

"I know, it's our first day," Cilan said happily, turning to his Pokémon to comb out his fur. "Can't wait, right?"

"Pan pansage pan, pan!" the Pokémon stated, purring practically as the comb went through his fur. His tail was trembling from the pure pleasure he was feeling.

Cilan was smiling as he continued to stroke and comb out the tangled fur. Cress came from the bathroom, his Panpour hugging his shoulders. "So, you're ready?" the second brother inquired, reaching up to smooth back his hair.

"Yes," Cilan stated, placing the comb to the side as he scooped up his Pokémon, placing him on his own shoulder. "Where is Chili?"

"He left."

"He did?"

"Yes, when you were sleeping."

"Oh."

Cilan ran his hands down his chest, smoothing out his shirt. He wanted to speak to his other brother, but it seemed that it would not happen. "Have you decided upon a job yet?" he inquired.

"Yes," Cress answered.

"Oh, what is it."

"It took me a while to figure it out, but I thought that it would be the best for me," Cress said, reaching up to comb back his hair.

"Alright."

"I have decided to work with children."

"Children?"

"Yes, remember when we were taking care of children at the daycare?" Cress asked, straightening out his shirt. "I would like to help them—study child psychology and help beginner parents and troubled children."

"Oh," Cilan stated, a grin on his face. "That sounds like an exceptionable job. Well, I hope you enjoy it."

"And I hope you enjoy your job."

"Oh, I believe that I will."

* * *

><p>The Hatchery was a large building that stood proudly among patches of bright green bushes. There was a barn-like building that was surrounded by fences where farm Pokémon lived. They were grazing on the grass, in the barn, or with their own species. A Blitzle stood behind the fence, his head resting against the wooden boards, looking at the young adults with innocence and pure childlike interest. Cilan smiled, reaching out to stroke the Pokémon gently on the snout, to which it quickly responded to. A group of teenagers hung about, waiting for their instructor to guide them. The boy with the Pansage glanced about, looking for the girl with the Axew. Was she late? He hummed to himself, his eyes looking around the area. She was nowhere to be seen. He frowned, reaching up with his other hand to pat his Pansage.<p>

"I wonder where she is," he said to his Pokémon.

"Pansage pan," the monkey Pokémon stated, his tail flicking from side to side.

Cilan frowned, and then turned back to the Blitzle, stroking and petting it as it purred with pleasure. "She's bound to come," he said.

"Pan."

"Right?"

"Pansage . . ."

He nodded his head, petting the black and white Pokémon caringly. Just then, a pair of hands grabbed his side, and he jolted, causing the Pokémon to jump away in freight. The Pansage twitched, rotating around to see the snickering Iris.

"Pan pansage pan!" the Pokémon stated, shaking his thick paw.

Iris laughed, her hands at her stomach. "Got you again!" she laughed.

Cilan turned around, giving her a playful glare. "Don't do that!" he said, reaching out to push at her arm. "I was wondering where you were at."

Iris grinned from ear to ear, her hands behind her back, and her heels pressed together. Her Axew popped from her hair, snickering at her. "Axew, ew ax," the little dragon Pokémon said to the other human and Pokémon.

"Aw, you were missing me?" she asked playfully.

"N-n—well, yes," Cilan stated, deciding not to lie to her as he felt his hot blush bloom at his face, his hands slipping into his pockets sheepishly.

"Aw, you're so sweet," she said with a smile.

"Axew," her Pokémon said, grinning from tusk to tusk. "Ax ax axew."

Iris reached up, pushing back her long ponytailed hair. "Well, I'm totally ready for this job," she stated, reaching for the Blitzle, calming it down with gently pats on the thick neck. "There, there."

"Bliz," the Pokémon stated, nuzzling against Iris' hand. "Bliz . . ."

Iris gave the Pokémon another firm pat, and then turned to Cilan. "Are you?" she inquired.

"Of course," Cilan said confidently, placing his hand to his chest. "This will be enjoyable."

Iris grinned, and then jumped onto the lower part of the fence, and then moved, sitting at the top part of the fence with perfect balance. Her Axew crawled from her hair and sat in her lap. Cilan was intrigued by the girl—she was different than most females, and he wished to learn more about her.

"So, are you willing to talk to me?"

Iris eyed the boy next to her, uncertainty and distrust in her eyes. She knew what he wanted to talk about her past and about why she came here. She was just not ready for that; she had to know if he was like her. Iris would have to find his records to come to that conclusion (socially deviant, wanted to be different, couldn't make many freinds; all of that was in The Hall of Records. All Communities had one), but for now that answer was "no." Her eyes then closed, and looked up to the sky. "No," she breathed.

Cilan frowned. "Alright," he stated, nodding his head.

"And don't inquire me about it again."

"I-I'm sorry."

Iris turned to him completely, and her Axew crawled from her lap, and approached the fence, tapping at it. The Pansage blinked, and then jumped from his Owner's shoulder, and onto the fence, staring at the little Axew with a smile.

"No, don't be," she stated, her hand resting on her Axew's back. "I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

Cilan bobbed his head. "Right," he said in a whisper.

He could feel in the core of his being that something was up. She knew something, and she did not want to tell him because she just did not trust him enough. He wanted to gain her trust—she knew something, something substantial; life-changing even. Why would she be transported from her home to here? Something happened, and he ached to know. But for now, Cilan would wait.

"Everybody!" a woman called to the group. "Come this way! The tour is about to begin!"

Cilan and Iris turned to the voice, and the girl gripped her Pokémon gently, jumping off the fence and landed on the ground perfectly. "I guess we have to go," she said, her Pokémon crawled into her thick mane.

Cilan's Pansage jumped from the fence and onto his shoulder. Iris grabbed his hand, and then tugged him along.

"C'mon! Let's go!" she said with a smile.

He looked at her, and then grinned back.

* * *

><p>"<em>Control<em> _the_ _hearts_ _and minds of all_."

* * *

><p>"And this is the first room we'll see; where the eggs and held until they hatch," the woman said, opening the door for the students to enter.<p>

The room was large had large square glass domes that contained an array of different coloured eggs that had different patterns. Lights were inside the containers, shining down on the eggs to keep them warm. Iris rushed over to one glass container, her hands pressed against the glass, smiling at the Pokémon eggs.

"Look at all of them, Cilan," she said, jabbing at the glass.

"Yes," he said with a smile, recognizing one of the eggs as a Pansage egg. "Look, a Pansage egg." Cilan pointed past the glass and at the green and tan egg.

Iris grinned, staring at the egg he was pointing at. The woman who was guiding them was limber, dark-haired, and wore a scientist lab coat; carrying around a notepad and pen. "Okay, people," she called, moving to the centre of the room where an island table where an egg sat in a plush top; it was flashing on and off like a light bulb. "Crowd around here, please."

Cilan and Iris turned up to the woman, and joined the group as they circled around the egg.

"This egg is about to hatch," she said. "It is easy to tell how an egg is about to hatch—they glow and flash. The closer they become to hatching, the flashing intensifies, just as it is doing now."

Iris raised her hand. "Mrs. Juniper," she called.

"Yes, Iris," the older woman said.

"How long does it take for an egg to hatch?"

"Around six to seven months," she answered curtly. "Like a human fetus to grow in the Human Hatchery, but a little less time."

Iris nodded. Another teenage female lifted her hand. She had long hair that was tied back into a ponytail that cascaded around her shoulders and back. The female wore shorts that were cut way above the knee, but lower than her thigh.

"Yes, White," Juniper stated.

"What do we have to do to keep an egg alive?" she asked, her Tepig nudging at her feet.

"Ah, good question," Juniper stated with a grin. "Well, just keep it warm and clean. That's all it takes. But if you don't do that, the egg will die. Oh! Look, look. The egg is hatching!"

The flashing intensified, and everyone watched with wide and curious eyes. Just then the egg faded away, and a Snivy appeared. The little freshly-hatched Pokémon opened its eyes, glancing around with equally curious eyes. Its long tail twitched, and it stood up on wobbly legs before falling over. Juniper smiled, placing her notepad and pen aside, and helped the little Pokémon stand on its small legs.

"See, this is what a hatching looks like," she said. Juniper scooped up the Snivy, holding it close to her chest. "Now, we're going to approach the Pokémon Daycare, and all of you will tend to a baby Pokémon. This little Snivy will join the others. I will help it integrate with the others." She patted the top of the Pokémon's head. "We will also go to where the farm Pokémon are taken care of. Please this way." She walked with a slight bounce in her step, never letting go of the newly-hatched Snivy.

The other teenagers followed, as did Iris and Cilan, not before the two exchanged glances and chuckled under their breaths.

* * *

><p>"<em>Pokémon and humans should not become too attached. They are just tools and food<em>."

* * *

><p>Cilan knelt down with a Deerling, tending to the baby Pokémon with utter care. Iris was caring for a Scraggy, watching the little Pokémon pull up his elastic skin to its chest, and then it succumbed to gravity when the Pokémon let it go. She giggled, and patted its head.<p>

"You're too cute," she said, picking it up and put it into her lap to clean its pale scales.

Iris glanced up, seeing the other teenagers off on their own, and then she turned to her new friend. "Hey, Cilan," she called, her hands cupping her mouth.

He looked over to her, his eyes bright with curiosity. "Yes?" he replied.

"What do you think?"

"About what?"

"The job," she said, reaching up to push back her long hair. "What do you think?"

"Oh," Cilan said. His Pansage touched noses with the Deerling. "I love it." The brush went through the pink fur of the Deerling, and his hand slicked it down, causing the young Pokémon to twitch with pleasure. "I think I may take this job as my own."

"Me too," she said, still tending to the attention-hungry Scraggy. "But I don't want to deal with killing Pokémon for food. I don't think that's for me."

Cilan shook his head. "I'm a bit shaky around blood," he said, thinking of the fountain of liquid that would pour from a wound. He shuttered at the thought. "I don't think I could handle it. But this will be fine with me." He stroked the Deerling fondly.

"Yeah, this is great," she said. "I would love to stay like this—and in this job—for the rest of my life."

"Me too."

She smiled brightly at him, and then there was what he recognized—the flashing of those odd flashes. It was different this time, but it was on her long, thick hair and eyebrows. The flashes died down quickly as soon as they went. He stared at her with wide eyes, confused and slightly afraid. These flashes were becoming life-dominating, he was now realizing. What if this continued and never went away? Cilan sat there, his eyes dull and listless. Iris blinked, staring at him.

"Earth to Cilan," she called, waving out her hand to him. "You there?"

Cilan blinked, and then forced a smile. "Yes, I am alright," he stated quickly.

Iris stared at him, a frown on her lips.

* * *

><p>"So, how was your first day?"<p>

Cilan glanced up, smiling from ear to ear at his brother. "Wonderful," he said with a dreamy look in his eyes. "All the baby Pokémon were adorable and I watched an egg hatch."

"Really?"

"Yes. It was amazing."

"What did it look like?"

"Well, the egg glowed and a Pokémon just appeared."

"Just like that?"

"Yes. What about you?"

Cress smiled gently, his Panpour clinging to his shoulders before jumping off and landing on the desk beside them. "Well, we followed the Guide around and he explained what we would be doing," he said, reaching up to comb back his hair. "He explained what we would do with children who are socially deviant, those who are depressed, and so and so forth."

"Sounds like you will enjoy your job."

"Oh, yes."

Cilan turned to Chili, who was laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling with a listless expression. His Pansear was resting beside him, the little creature's head resting against his chest, still aching for more attention from him. Cilan licked his dry lips, and called: "Chili."

The third brother turned his head to his two other brothers. "Yeah?" he called.

"Um, so, what job did you pick?"

"Janitor."

Cress and Cilan exchanged surprised looks with each other.

"A j-janitor?" Cress said, his upper lip trembling with shock.

"Yeah," Chili said dully, turning his head back up to the ceiling. "The Community says that it would be the best for me."

"B-but, _you_ were supposed to choose."

"Yeah, but I don't mind."

Cilan's brows furrowed, and he swallowed sharply. A janitor? _A damn janitor?_ This was utterly ridiculous! The teenage boy gritted his teeth at the thought, and turned his head away from his brother, peering out of the window with disgust. How could they just do that to his brother?

"Don't you even care," Cress said with a growl in his voice. "A janitor is the lowest job one could have. Do you really not care about having that job?"

"I don't care. I said that already." He sat up, and slugged his way to the bathroom. "I'm going to bed, guys."

Cress and Cilan watched the boy move to the bathroom, and he closed the door. Cress' breath hitched, and he turned to his other brother.

"This isn't right," he rasped out.

"I know," Cilan growled out, his upper lip trembling. "How dare they do that to him? How _dare_ they?" His voice became angrier as he said "dare." Revolting.

"But there's nothing we can do."

"And that's what sickens me the most."

Cress crossed his arms over chest, and he glared at the opposite wall. Cilan hung his head as his mind raced like crazy. His heartbeat then slowed down as he began to collect his stray thoughts. The young man closed his eyes, and then exhaled deeply.

"Cress."

"Yeah?"

"D-do you remember our parents?"

There was a pause.

"What parents?"

* * *

><p>What Cress had said chilled him. <em>"What parents?"<em> Their parents! Their _only_ parents. Who else? Cilan held the Cubchoo gently as the little being wiggling in his grip, and he reared his head up, his pink little tongue grazing against his chin. Cilan chuckled, reaching up with his hand to pat the creature on the head.

"How are you?" Cilan asked with a grin.

"Cub," the Cubchoo said, nuzzling the human.

Pansage sat next to his Owner, staring at the little Cubchoo with a playful smile. Where was Iris? He glanced around, searching for the dark-skinned young woman. All he could see where baby Pokemon, and young adults. He watched as a boy he came to know as Cheren walk by with a Venipede in his arms, which was cradled gently in the human's warm arms.

"Hey, Cheren," Cilan called.

The dark-haired boy turned to Cilan. "Yeah?" he asked. "What do you need?"

"Have you seen Iris?"

"The long-haired girl you've been with lately?"

"Yes, her."

"No, I have not."

Cilan frowned, and nodded his head slowly. "Yes, alright, thank you," the other male breathed.

Cheren stood there, blinked, nodded, and then walked off to be with White and Black, and another girl with curly hair. Cilan swallowed sharply, and sighed as he stood up to put away the Cubchoo in his little pen. He needed fresh water and food. Pansage jumped onto his Owner's shoulder as Cilan grabbed the nearly empty dishes.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"You're late."

Cilan's ears perked to the sound.

"I know. I know."

"No wonder why Opelucid got rid of you."

Cilan tensed at the harsh-sounding voice. That was utterly cruel to say.

"Hey, I said I was _sorry_. I was sick."

"Don't let it happen again."

There were some footsteps that echoed throughout the hallways, and a steaming Iris entered the Pokémon day care. Her hair was utterly disheveled as more wild than usual, and she looked wretched—like she was sleep-deprived. Cilan looked at her, and left the dishes on the counter to approach Iris.

"Are you alright?" he asked, reaching towards her.

She pushed his hands back. "Perfect, I'm fine," Iris grumbled, reaching up with her own hands to grip her head. Iris then sighed, as she grunted. "No, I'm sorry, Cilan."

He blinked, staring at her. "Alright," Cilan whispered, his Pansage staring at her.

Her Axew popped out of her thick mane, nudging his Owner tenderly.

"Axew ax," he whispered to her, his snout touching her cheek.

Iris reached up, patting her darling Pokémon gently. "It's been a bad night for me," she whispered, turning to him, forcing a smile.

He looked at her, seeing that her eyes darkened with rings of tiredness and fatigue. Cilan nodded, wondering what was wrong with her. She did not look well—it looked like that she was dying almost, on the outside, but he was also sure that she was dying on the inside as well. Her eyes showed it. After all, eyes were the window to the soul, and she looked like she was in pain.


	5. Out there

**Forgot to mention: it's been implied throught the anime/games/manga that humans eat Pokémon. After all, Pokémon eat Pokémon, so why wouldn't humans? Since there are no "normal" animals, and they all can't be vegans. Plus, in the anime, it shows them eating meat. Derp. Humans eat Pokémon. Nuff said.**

**I did a lot of editing to this chapter. I didn't like how it first came out. Hope you like it.**

* * *

><p>Out there<p>

V

The flashes (or whatever) were increasing over the last few days, and it happened more and more over the next two months.

Everywhere he looked something was flashing rapidly, as if it was trying to stabilize itself. The grass, the trees, the bark on the trees, the sky, and everything else was just . . . It was like those given items were having seizures, but they were not moving—they stayed in place. These odd, yet intriguing, visual hallucinations were becoming part of Cilan's daily life (they had always, though). His eyes would focus on something, and when he would blink his eyes closed, the seizures remained etched into his eyelids; they would not leave. He tried his best to ignore them, but everything around him sparked to life—even his hands were changing before his eyes. He shook his head as he tended to the egg, which was also experiencing these odd bursts of whatever he was seeing, and tried to stay focused on his new job.

Cress was acting a little odd lately, and Cilan was not sure as to why. Whenever the brother would inquire him about the job, he would give quick answers and change the topic completely. It was strange; why was his brother acting like this? It was like he didn't want to talk about his work. Was something wrong? Cilan also began to notice that he could not remember his childhood (parents? What parents?). When he tried to focus on the past, it would come back fuzzy and distorted. It scared him, it did, but this was normal. Right? He didn't think so. If so, did other regions have this set-up as well? The lowest on the social pyramid were the Workers (or simply called the People; him, Iris, his brothers, and so on), then the Police, after that the Law Makers, then the Inforcers Guild, and lastly the Authority. Did they have that too?

He ached to know. And something was nagging at him about Iris. She was hiding something. But what?

He was spending more time with her as he tried to understand her better. She seemed to have a fondness for baby Pokémon, and she tended to them like a beloved mother would tend to her children. She still seemed suspicious of him, and every so often she would glance around, look over her shoulder, and watch the cameras that hung on the walls with utter hatred and contempt. Her Axew also kept an eye out for his Owner, like he was protecting her, and he hid in her hair to conceal his actions. Something had happened at her old home, but she still wasn't talking. She reminded him of a paranoid Patrat; always glancing about, worried if something bad was coming.

But he got to know more about her. She loved fruits, and he would share his fruits with her when lunch break would come. They would talk about the weather, Pokémon (mostly), food, the latest gossip (not always), tell jokes, and just share. She seemed more comfortable around him, and around him only. She never spoke with any body else but him (usually). It was odd, but he did not question it. After all, in some ways, she was like him. However, she would watch him much like a scientist would watch a specimen, probably wondering why he would act so odd.

"Cilan, are you alright?" Iris called to her friend.

Cilan blinked, tearing his gaze from the hallucination-induced trembling floor. "Nothing, I'm quite fine," he said, returning to the egg he held. It was glowing—ready to hatch.

Iris frowned.

"This one's ready to hatch," Cilan said, trying to keep her from asking his concerns.

"Yes," she said, eyeing him. "Cilan, really, are you alright? You seem . . . tense."

Cilan did not meet her gaze as he lifted up the spotted egg. "I'm fine, really," he said. "It's just that there's a lot on my mind lately."

"Like what?"

"Personal."

"Oh."

There was a moment of pregnant silence as his Pansage groomed her Axew.

"So," Cilan began, breaking the voiceless stillness, "how do you like Striaton? Are you enjoying this as your new home?"

Iris bit her lower lip. "It's nothing like Opelucid," she said, cleaning her egg with tender carefulness. "Opelucid had more trees."

"Straition has trees."

"But nothing like Opelucid."

Each Community had their own foliage, but the rest of Unova was a vast flattened landscape of dirt and sand. If one were to fly above Unova and viewed the region from an aerial view, there would be no trees, no grass—nothing but barren landscape, and each Community would be an oasis of trees and plant life.

* * *

><p>"<em>The Great Pokémon Extermination happened about seventy years ago when the Harmonia family came into power. The idea was to kill all the Pokémon off, but only to collect a few male and female from every species, and kill the rest. There used to be scores of hunters that used to be paid for every Pokémon they killed, but this was deemed not efficient enough. So the forests were burned down and the Pokémon were contained to be burned and the survivors were then shot<em>."

* * *

><p>Cilan nodded, his hands running over the shell of his egg. "There are a lot of trees at your old home?" he inquired.<p>

"All over the place," Iris said dreamily, clutching the egg at her breast. "So many trees." She frowned, and hung her head. "I miss it."

The male teenager frowned, and then inched closer to her. "Iris," he called, tenderly placing his egg on his lap, "are you alright?"

She was silent and her eyes were hooded by her bangs. Her hands were moving slowly across the shell of the egg with deep thought. "Yeah, I'm alright," she murmured. "I'm just thinking of good times at my old home."

He nodded slowly, and he turned up his head, watching their Pokémon play with each other. Cilan smiled sadly, cocking his head to the side as he stared at the little dragon and the monkey. "It's a shame that we have to give them up," he said in a low tone.

Iris' eyes went cold. "I hate that," she muttered, gripping the egg tightly to her flat breast. "Axew's my best friend."

"So is Pansage to me."

"Why do we have to give them up," Iris hissed.

"Just how it is."

"Bunch of shit."

Cilan looked at her with wide eyes. Her face was contorted with anger and distain. Her eyes were darkened and almost deranged with her hatred. He was unnerved by her look, and he turned his attention to his egg.

"There's nothing we can do," he whispered.

"I know," she snarled. Iris then calmed herself, and sighed. "But I wish I could do something. I don't want to lose him . . ."

Cilan glanced up, and looked across the room and White and Black, who were tending to a Cubchoo. They were talking animatedly to each other as both took turns tending to the little Pokémon, who was relishing in their tender touches.

* * *

><p>"<em>I remember that there were so many bodies of dead Pokémon after the purge that my grandfather could toss a stone and hit a body or two<em>."

* * *

><p>Cilan's egg flashed, and both turned to the egg in his hands. Iris then grinned from ear to ear as he placed it on the floor. Axew and Pansage turned up, and watched the egg with awe and interest.<p>

"Alright," Iris said, moving closer to her friend and held her egg close, "let's see what it'll hatch into."

The egg continued to flash violently until a Deerling replaced the egg. The little creature opened its eyes, and glanced around its surroundings in awe. Cilan grinned at the baby Pokémon, and reached across with his slender hands.

"Welcome to the world, little one," he said to the Deerling tenderly.

"Deer," the Pokémon said as it tried to stand on wobbly legs. Cilan shifted, and held up the little creature. "Deer deerling."

Axew and Pansage approached the newly hatched Pokémon, sniffing and touching their heads together as the young Deerling looked interestingly at the other two Pokémon. Iris carefully placed her egg carefully on its pillow, and stood up.

"I'll go get a brush," Iris said, scampering away.

Cilan watched her go and smiled gently. The Deerling was stumbling upon thin and new legs as the boy held it up gingerly with his gentle hands. "There, there, little one," he told the Deerling. "Be careful now, you're newly hatched. You have to move slowly."

With carefulness, the Deerling moved one hoof slowly after the next, while being guided by Pansage. Cilan smiled as he watched the little critter carefully move, and quickly gain confidence with each step. The human boy let out a laugh.

"You're getting it," he told the Deerling, who was now circling him while staring at its hooves. Cilan lifted his hand, placing it on the back of the Deerling to give it a proud pat. "Just go slow and you'll be prancing around in no time."

"Deerling deer," the Pokémon said, affectionately nuzzling Cilan with its head against his.

Cilan beamed, patting the Pokémon on the head with a certain gentleness that made the little critter nuzzle him again. That was when Iris returned with a brush, and she knelt down beside the pink-furred Pokémon.

"Hello," she greeted to the Deerling, reaching out with her hand for the Pokémon to sniff. "Hello, there."

The Deerling moved its nose to Iris' palm, and inhaled her scent. When it came to the conclusion that she would not harm him, it rubbed its head against her hand.

"There you go," Iris said with a grin, and her Axew popped from her thick mass of hair, sniffing at the Deerling.

"Axew axew ax," the dragon Pokémon said with a grin.

"Deerling deer deerling," the other Pokémon said to the Axew, and the newly-hatched Deerling licked the snout of the Axew.

Axew blushed, and dived back into Iris' hair in bashfulness and innocence. Iris chuckled, and then started to brush the Deerling's new fur. "What a cutie," she said to really no one in particular.

Cilan only nodded, his hand patting the breast of the Deerling. "I read the list that someone is assigned to have a Deerling," he said.

"Oh, the Community doesn't just give the eggs to children?" Iris inquired.

* * *

><p>"<em>Even though we collected Pokemon, some morons didn't keep hardly any farm Pokemon to raise to eat. That's why we still have a meat shortage."<em>

* * *

><p>"Not anymore," Cilan replied. "They wait for the eggs to hatch and then give the baby Pokémon to the children. That's how they do things nowadays."<p>

"We still get eggs," Iris said, brushing the Deerling's fur tenderly. "I got Axew as an egg." She turned to her thick mane of purple hair, watching as the bashful Axew popped out. She glanced up to the cameras, and glared at them. "Hey, Cilan."

"Yes, Iris."

"Do you ever wonder?"

"Wonder about what?"

"Life outside of Unova."

Cilan twitched, and his eyes widened. "No, you're not supposed to," he hissed lowly. "It's forbidden."

"Oh, c'mon, Cilan," she growled back. "They should not try to suppress our thoughts. Do you really want to be a zombie?"

"N-no."

"Just think about it, Cilan."

He blinked, and his mind wondered. All his life he was told to love Unova, never question the Laws of the Land, praise the Authority—he was being taught to be a loyal slave to the region. Never really was he supposed to think about anything else but being loyal and patriotic to the Region of Unova. Never has he ever thought about anything else is any way, shape, or form. But . . . now . . . Cilan turned up his head, peering out of the window.

"Have you ever wondered? Your secret is safe with me."

* * *

><p><em>"The idea was to completely seperate humans and Pokémon indefinitely."<em>

* * *

><p>"Sometimes, yes," Cilan said. "I do wonder. What's out there—beyond the sea; yes, I do wonder from time to time. I've never voiced it until now."<p>

Iris looked to him as a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips, and then out of the window he was staring through. "I wonder what it will be like," she whispered. "Out there."

Cilan blinked, and then licked his lips. He then shook his head, and turned to the Deerling. "Let us not think about it," he said, determined to remain loyal to the Authority.

"Why?"

"B-because we shouldn't."

"I know we shouldn't, but _why_ do you think that we can't."

He paused, his mind reeling. "I'm not sure," Cilan said with an honest expression and voice. "Because we just should not—it is not right, not proper."

"But _why_, Cilan, _why_ do you think."

Cilan was silent, and his voice died in his throat. He then turned back to the Deerling, stroking it and patting it gently as it crooned. "I know why," he whispered.

"Why?"

"Control."

Iris was silent, but her eyes spoke volumes. Cilan swallowed sharply, staring at her with a dull face yet he had horrified eyes.

"You know more, don't you?"

"What do you think?"

Cilan twitched, staring at her with a stoic features and he could feel himself tremble. She knew more than she was letting on. She knew too much, so why hadn't the Community taken her away like all the others. Maybe it was because they didn't know either. She had lied. She was an actress, just like him. Iris lied, she deceived, and she pretended to keep a hold of her skin. Cilan turned to the right, and then to the left, feeling her suspicion filter into him.

"What else do you know more about the outside world?"

"Yeah."

"Tell me more."

"No. Not now. Not here. Why do you want to know?"

"I want to be free, Iris."

She paused, staring at him with wide eyes. "I do too," the dark-skinned young woman whispered. She hung her head, and then lifted it. "Cilan, I want you to listen to me."

"Yes," he whispered.

"Meet me at the roof at twelve o'clock," she said in a low tone as her hand cupped over her mouth. "I'll tell you more." She glanced up at the cameras, knowing perfectly that they could not hear sound. Iris then grinned, and winked at him.

Cilan blinked at her, and then slowly smiled. "That sounds good," he said, his Pansage nudging him with his fat paw. "I want to know. I suppose you trust me enough."

"I can see that you are different—like me. You wonder, just like me."

"We've only been friends for a month or two."

She spoke in whispers:

"But I can sense it. I can sense you are trapped, just like you said. And plus, I read your file."

"W-what?"

"I read your physiological file. You said once you wondered about life outside of Unova. I know."

"H-how?"

"I snuck into the Hall of Records"

"O-oh."

"Some moron left your file out, and I read it. Not very ethical, I know . . ."

He felt the lump in his throat grow and bob there for a while before he swallowed it down. "I will never tell," he said, placing his hand to his chest. "I promise you that."

Iris grinned. "That's great," she said. "I've got so much to tell you."

* * *

><p><em>In a room that had a single light sat a body that sat in a corner. The room was filled with brightly-coloured toys: trains that ran around on their tracks in the centre of the room, a plane that was strung to a cord and it hung there, a basketball and hoop, and books. On the cloud-patterned walls were lines. A single line stood for a day. There were thousands of lines. That covered an entire wall and the next and the next. The body had not seen daylight in years. He had not seen his Pokémon friend in years. He whimpered as he rocked his naked body as long hair cascaded down his back and shoulders. There, in the corner, was a door that led to a bathroom. The door was ajar slightly. The body rocked, whimpered, and cried. The body; no, the boy, wanted to be freed.<em>

* * *

><p>Cilan looked up at the ceiling, swallowed, and listened to his brother's snoring. His Pansage was asleep at his side, and he would twitch every other moment or so. The boy then turned at his side, and looked at the alarm clock, watching it turn to exactly twelve. He stood up slowly from his bed, and shuffled to the window. He glanced at his brothers, and paused before carefully opening the window. He crawled out, glancing around before scrambling up the roof like a Purrloin would. Cilan glanced around, making sure that he would not get captured by the night guards. This was crazy! This was utterly mad! He was breaking rules! <em>It felt great<em>. He crouched there, his hands dangling between his legs, glancing around, searching for her. Just then, across the other side of the way he saw her standing on the roof, waving at him. A grin twitched at his lips before he slowly moved across the roof as she did. They soon meet in the middle, and both softly laughed.

"I feel so wrong," Cilan said, gripping his arms with a grin. "I feel so energized."

"Now you know how I feel," Iris said with a smirk.

"I like it."

Iris grinned from ear to ear, grabbed his hands, and pulled him down. "Sit," she said, sitting as best as she could on the hard and rough roof.

Cilan sat down, careful not to hurt his feet and sat down. He turned to her like a curious and eager child would, ready to hear what she knew. "Tell me, tell me what you can tonight," he said. "I want to know."

* * *

><p><em>The body twitched, and then looked over, watching his train circle around on their tracks. He pulled his legs part from his chest, and inched over, and watched the train with slight childlike innocence. His fingers gently grazed the colourful plastic tenderly. The head turned up, and a tongue moistened his dry lips. Just then, the body stood up, and moved to the marked wall. He crouched down, taking a pen that was on the floor, and uncapped it, adding another line to the wall.<em>


	6. A wild Pokémon?

**You guys are gunna hate me forever when you find out what Cilan's seeing. :D It's so simple, too, and ya'll (you know who you are) are making more out of it than there really is.**

**BTW, I'm writing some stories via FictionPress. I'm going to update them sometime, but I'm going to post either _Kingdom Animalia_ or _Mechanical Heart_ or _Journey of a Single Step_. Would you guys concider reading something like that?**

* * *

><p>A wild Pokémon?<p>

VI

"What do you want to know," Iris stated, moving forward to hug her legs to her chest with a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Cilan paused as his mind started to wander at the endless possibilities. "I—I don't know where to even start," he stammered, his hand outward as he glanced up at the heavens above. "Just start rambling."

Iris chuckled, and then she glanced around, making sure that the guards were nowhere to be seen, and then she started to speak: "Well, alright, in other regions there are Pokémon Battles."

Cilan paused, cocking his head to the side. "A-a Pokémon Battle?" he asked, confused. "What is that?"

"Well, in other regions, humans, who are called Trainers, have Pokémon to battle," she said, looking at him. "Apparently, the battle is a way to bond with Pokémon to their Trainers and Trainers to their Pokémon."

Cilan blinked, staring at her. "And they do this to bond with each other," he said.

"Yeah."

"Interesting. A Pokémon Battle . . ." He tried the term on his tongue. He rather liked it. "And what happens to the Pokémon?"

"What do you mean?"

"After some time, do they give up their Pokémon?"

Iris shook her head, a frown on her face. "They don't," she said. "They get to keep their Pokémon."

Cilan's eyes widened considerably and his jaw went slack. "T-t-they get to keep their Pokémon?" he asked, completely flabbergasted.

"Yeah. Even adults."

"Why?"

"I'm not sure. They just do."

"They're so lucky."

"Yes, they are, and they don't know how lucky they are." She turned her head away, staring up at the night sky; the light from the stars above filtered down, as did the rounded moon. "I know more."

"Like what?" Cilan inquired enthusiastically.

"Well, when a person trains a Pokémon enough, the Pokémon gets stronger, and when that happens, sometimes the Pokémon will . . . what was the word they used—transform? No. Evolve. That's it—evolve."

"What do you mean by 'evolve'?"

"They change their shape permanently."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because they get stronger," Iris repeated. "I thought I said that."

Cilan closed his mouth, and looked at her. "Well, I wasn't sure I heard correctly," he said. The boy then smiled from ear to ear. "This is all so fascinating. Where did you learn this from?"

Iris paused, unsure of what to tell him. Cilan twitched, and shifted his arms to rest on his legs. "It's alright," he said. "I promised I wouldn't tell." The boy pressed a finger to his lips.

Iris glanced him over—she still didn't want to tell him what happened to her and her past, but she felt a calming sense when he looked at her. His eyes were pure and wisdom-filled; it made her feel safe. It was something she had not felt in a long time. Iris shifted, hugging her legs to her chest.

"Back at my old home, there was this guy named Drayden," she stated, turning fully towards him. "He was the so-called Community freak, you know what I mean? He found these old books underneath his home one day, and he read them. They were about different things I have never heard of. I went to his house and he showed me books about what people used to do in the old days and the other regions too. There were things called Pokémon Battles, and Pokémon evolved when they battled because they got stronger, and there were these people called Connoisseur used to decipher the relationships of Pokémon and their Owners; what they used to be called Trainers. I think whoever lived in Drayden's home had these shipped illegally. I heard that a person ran off, and he used to live in that house I believe.

"Anyways, I would read them every day, awed and amazed. I wasn't sure what I was reading, but I kept rereading it until I fully understood. It was amazing. Drayden then told me that Unova wanted to control us when I asked why we didn't have these things. It makes sense the more I thought about it. It has to be true. Please don't tell anyone."

Cilan nodded his head, his eyes filled with interest and fascination. "I promise I won't tell," he said, placing his finger to his lips. "What happened to him?"

"Drayden?" Iris asked. She frowned, and turned her head away; she was trembling violently, but then she sighed, swallowing thickly. "The Community deemed him as a threat and they took him away. I've never seen him again. His items and the old books he found were burned in a large bonfire in the centre of the Community."

Cilan frowned, and turned his head away. Typical. Found as a threat, you're removed from the Community.

"I'm sorry," Cilan said, staring at the female, leaning forward, his eyes pain-filled and sorrowful.

She frowned, reaching up to rub under her nose, and nodded. She struggled to contain her tears, and she gagged, trying to pull herself together. "Yeah, I do miss him, though," Iris stated, pulling her legs closer to her chest.

He looked at her, a frown on his lips. There was a pregnant silence that followed suit, but then Iris glanced around before standing up carefully. "I'll tell you more tomorrow night," Iris stated, turning to him with a grin—it looked forced almost. She looked painful within those deep eyes of hers. "Okay? Sleep well."

Cilan bobbed his head, and stood up to a crouch. "Good night, Iris," he said in a kind and gentle voice.

Iris looked at him, glanced over him, nodded her head quickly, and scampered away with a certain quickness that astounded him. He watched for a while before retreating to his own room.

* * *

><p><em>He hated being trapped in here. A hand touched the cloud-patterned wall, and it slowly dragged it down. Eyes clouded with tears darted around, saddened and pain-filled. He wanted to go outside and be in the sun—feel the soft grass under his fingertips, feel river water rush through parted toes. He held that dear to his heart. The body wondered if he would ever see the sun again, or the grass, or the river water . . .<em>

_His father said that he would, but only if he would obey him and do what he told him to do. The body did not like what his father and his family had done to Unova, especially the Pokemon and the wild. It was revolting. But he had kept his mouth closed, because he did not want to get hurt by his father again. However, he knew he would, so why lie to himself?_

* * *

><p>Pokémon Battles? Evolution? What else lay beyond the seas? What else was in those other regions of mystery? They all intrigued him so. It made him ache for things he had never thought existed. Cilan stood tall, erect, and utterly proud as he was anchored on the roof. His Pansage clung to his shoulders, looking at his Owner with interest.<p>

"Pansage pan?" the Pokemon said, staring at his Owner.

"Pansage," Cilan began, his eyes turning to his Pokémon. Then the flickering happened again, but this time it was on the roof shingles. He focused on it before it faded. Cilan swallowed sharply, and twitched, turning to look back past the Straiton Community. "Sorry, I seem a little out of it today, don't I?"

"Pansage," the monkey-like Pokémon agreed.

Cilan hummed in his throat, and his eyes grazed the Community over. "There's just a lot on my mind," he said as he felt the wind rustle against his body and hair. "So much on my mind . . ."

Pansage continued to stare at his Owner with a confused face.

"All I have to say is that I knew it along."

Cilan swallowed sharply, and shoved his hands into his pockets. He knew it. The Authority was just controlling them! But why was the reason? What was the underlining reason? There had to be one. There always is a reason, but there was nothing he could do. He knew he could not voice his ideas like he used to when he was young (when he asked his teachers why they couldn't keep their Pokémon, and that he wanted to keep his; they told on him). Cilan had to remain mute, just like he always had ever since he understood that he had to. He would be in big trouble if he made a blunder like this, and who know what would happen to dear Iris. She was already being watched, and he didn't want her to vanish.

What exactly happened to those who went missing? He had wondered that for so long? Were they kept in a prison? Those who did inquire about the situation also went missing—vanished off the face of the earth. Even their identification papers disappeared, so he had once heard.

But still, what else lay beyond the seas that lined the Unova region? His heart ached for more knowledge, his mind lingered with so many questions that would probably be left unanswered for the rest of his days.

"Cilan? Cilan!"

The boy blinked, and peered over the side of the roof to see Cress poking his head out of the window. He seemed flustered and confused. "Cilan? What are you doing on the roof?" he called, turning his head to get a better look at his brother.

Cilan blinked, and smiled at him. "Well, I wanted to watch the view," he partly-lied. He did want to see the view, but he also wanted to think to himself in privacy.

"W-well, come down," Cress said, motioning his hand. "Time to go to work." He pulled himself back into the room.

Cilan beamed as he carefully slid down the roof and entered the open window. He paused as he rustled with his open vest, buttoning it up quickly. Chili and Cress exchanged curious looks before they returned to ready themselves. For Cilan, that meant another day with Iris, and another day for more facts.

* * *

><p>"<em>No, no, leave me alone."<em>

"_Why should I?"_

"_Please stop hurting me. I've done nothing wrong."_

"_You have done everything wrong. You didn't obey me."_

"_What you are doing was wrong."_

_A deep, dark chuckle. "So?" the voice said. "You must obey me."_

_The other voice whimpered. "I don't want to obey something that's not right," the voice whispered. "Why would you do that? Why would you do something like this?"_

"_You wouldn't understand. You're too stupid to understand anything."_

"_I'm not stupid."_

"_Yes you are. Just a stupid little boy."_

_The second person whimpered loudly as the owner of the first voice continued to hurt him._

* * *

><p>"The cameras cannot hear us, can they?"<p>

"No, which is great," Iris said with a pointed grin. "They can only see us, not hear us. But it is best not to talk about things here, after all, _they_ are watching and hearing." She gestured to the guards at the far back, and returned to tending to the Pidove.

"I guess you are correct about that," Cilan groaned, reaching across to pat the Pidove. He huffed, and then smiled. "So, what do you want to talk about?"

She blinked, and looked up at him. "Well, I've never asked you, but did you play any sports?" Iris asked, gently picking up the Pidove to place it on her lap to preen its feathers carefully. "I used to play soccer, but I was way too good, so they kicked me off." She chuckled. "I was good at the jungle gym, and I would play on it all the time."

Cilan grinned, his eyes looking deeply at her. "Really? Even at your age?" he stated, cocking his head to the side.

"Yeah," Iris said with a shrug. "I loved—and still do—the jungle gym. Do we have a jungle gym here?"

"Yes," Cilan stated, plucking the old feathers from around Iris' legs. "Would you like to go to it?"

Iris' eyes automatically lit up as she looked at him. She looked like a child with those wide eyes of hers. It was odd for her—or any soon-to-be adult—to want to go to a playground. "Really? You'll take me?" she asked, shifting her weight on her knees.

Cilan nodded. "Sure, I don't mind," he said with a grin. "After work I'll take you."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

* * *

><p>"<em>When shall we go?"<em>

"_In good time, my student, in good time."_

"_But, Master, it has been many years."_

"_I know, but we are still weak. They have killed a large amount of us in the past. We must build our army to effectively have about our revenge."_

"_Yes, Master."_

* * *

><p>The playground was empty when Iris and Cilan went there. The children had long since vanished after the work hours; it was time for them to return to their homes. Adults and teenagers, after all, could stay up another hour before they could return their homes. There was a large slide a few feet from some swings, a jungle gym several feet from a large sandbox, and seesaw stood in the middle of the playground.<p>

"It's been forever since I've been at a playground!" Iris said jubilantly as her Axew popped from her thick mane of hair.

Cilan turned to her, his eyes wide. "Did you go to playgrounds at your old home?" he inquired as he followed Iris to a swing.

"Of course," she said with a particular twinkle in her eyes. "But I was always sent to shrink wards at my old home. I hated going to those places, so I stopped."

Axew jumped out of her hair, and joined Pansage on the ground. They nudged at each other before rushing off, play-fighting with each other; jumping on each other and wrestled on the ground. Iris plopped on the swing seat, digging her heels into the soft ground below. She then turned up to Cilan, and flashed him a grin as her hands gripped the thick rope of the swing.

"Push me, Cilan," she said.

He stared at her, cocking her head to the side. "You want to be pushed?" he asked, his voice laced with curious tone.

"Yeah," she said, moving her body so she could sway.

Cilan continued to stare at her before cracking a grin. "So are such an odd person," he said, walking behind her, grabbing the rope she clung to.

She tilted back her head, grinning from ear to ear. "Well, I'm odd and so are you," she stated.

He laughed. "Oh, so true," Cilan answered. "We're two odd people, but I'm not complaining."

He started to push her, watching her mass of hair sway as he pushed her. Cilan felt like a child pushing his brothers when they were so young. He watched her hair, and then it flickered again. Again, there were those hallucinations.

"Iris?"

"Yeah?"

"I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Sometimes when I watch things, they flash or flicker."

Iris blinked, turning to look at him as she was being slowly pushed. "What do you mean?" she asked. "Do you see light?"

"No, I don't think its light, it's . . ." Cilan paused, his mind traveling to other places as her hair stopped flashing. "Right now it just stopped."

Iris blinked, staring directly at him with a curious expression on her features. "How long have you had this . . . this—whatever it is," she stated, her eyes flickering over his face.

"All my life. It's just increased over the last two years."

"I don't recall reading this in your file."

"I never mentioned it. I was afraid."

"I can see why."

Cilan nodded his head, swallowing the growing ball in his throat. "So, do you have any idea what it could be?" he asked, hoping for something.

Iris shook her head, her expression sour. "I'm sorry," she stated, leaning her head against the rope she held on to. "I've never heard of this, but you were smart never to mention it. Who knows what they might have done to you."

Cilan bit his lower lip, sighing through his nostrils. Figured. She may know a lot of interesting things, but what gave him the idea that she knew what was wrong with him? Wishful thinking. He shook his head, turning his gaze to look up to the setting sun. Beyond that way were barren hills that loomed over the Community. Nothing lived out there. There was nothing to survive off of out there in the Wastelands. No fruits, the river waters were polluted (he wondered about their water sometimes; was it always clean?)—just a hellhole out there. But what he saw made him gag in surprise. His eyes widened, hair bristled at the back of his neck, his jaw went slack, and he forgot how to think.

A figure stood on the hill. It stood tall on four legs as its head glanced around as if it was surveying the area. The head then turned to Cilan, locked eyes with him before running away like it had been caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Cilan!"

The boy barely had time to react before Iris fell back, still perched on her swing, and collided with him. He grunted as he hit the hard ground. Axew and Pansage glanced up from the seesaw before rushing over to him.

"Cilan! Cilan!" Iris cried, jumping from her seat on the swing and went to him. She stood over him, her face creased with worry. "Cilan, are you alright?"

Cilan huffed, shaking his head. "I think I'm alright," he said, sitting up as his Pansage approached him.

"Pansage pan," the monkey-like Pokémon stated, watching the blood pour from the fresh wound on the side of Cilan's head.

Cilan turned to his Pokémon, blinking. "What?" he asked, reaching up with his hand to touch the side of his head. He felt wetness. "Am I bleeding?"

"Yeah," Iris said, frowning. "I'm so sorry." She was panicked, and she looked over the rest of his body, checking to see if he was bleeding anywhere else.

"Do I need stitches?"

"Yeah, I think you do."

"Alright," Cilan said, cupping his hand over his new wound. He shivered as he felt the liquid trickle down his wrist and through his fingers. "Let's just get to a hospital."

"I'm so sorry, Cilan," Iris grumbled, sounding more angry at herself than at him. She offered her hand to him, which he took.

"It's alright," he said with a slight chuckle. "Let's just go to the hospital, alright." Cilan glanced up to the hill where he was originally staring at. The being was long gone, but he wished it was still there. What was it? It was standing on all fours, so it was not a human. It could not have been. There was only one option:

_A Pokémon._


	7. A wild what?

**Another update? Wat?**

* * *

><p>A wild what?<p>

VII

Iris cringed as she watched the ultra thin needle puncture Cilan's skin, and the hand that held to the needle moved forward, the thin string tied to it followed the hand with little disagreement. He was getting stitches, and it was the first time he had ever got injured like this before. Yes, some boyish cuts and scrapes, but never he had stitches. There would probably be a scar there once it healed. Pansage watched with Axew, both twitching as they listened to the skin give into the needle. Cilan grinned at his friend, trying to comfort her a little—he could obviously see that she was disgusted by what she was watching, and she would sometimes turn her head away from him, not wanting to look.

"I'm fine, Iris," he stated calmly.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"But still . . ."

Cilan reached forward, patting her hand that was gripped tightly on her lap. "I said it is alright," he said gently. "It'll heal."

Iris' lips were pressed together, but she nodded her head.

The doctor tugged at the needle, pulling the skin tightly so that it would touch. "There, all done," the coated man stated. He reached for a pair of scissors, cutting the thin string, and did some last-minute clean up. "Now, clean the wound every night," the doctor instructed. "You don't want it to get infected. Warm water will do the trick with a wash cloth. Don't scrub too hard; you don't want to ruin the stitching. Peroxide will also clean the area."

Cilan reached up, tenderly touching the area with his fingers. "Yes, thank you, Doctor," he said, flashing the man a warm smile.

He slipped off of the tall cushioned seat, and shook out his legs as his Pansage leapt onto his shoulders. Iris stood up, grabbing her Axew, and it slipped into her thick mane of hair. The doctor reached up, combing back his thick wavy hair as he grinned at the young adults.

"You be careful now, you two," he stated.

Cilan nodded, smiling at the adult. "I will, thank you," he said, Iris grabbing his arm, gently tugging him along.

Iris was silent, her nimble hands clinging to the white cloth that was his sleeve. Both walked through the long corridor, passing many doors that were either open or closed. Here and there was an Audino either helping some nurses or tending to some patients. Cilan occasionally touched his wound until Iris slapped at his hand.

"Stop, you'll infect it," Iris muttered.

Cilan nervously smiled. "Sorry," he muttered. "I'm just not used to having a wound on my head."

Iris nodded, still clinging to his arm. Cilan looked at her, a frown creasing his lips. His Pansage twitched, his large paws resting on the boy's head as his tail swished from side to side. "So," Cilan began, "meet on the roof?"

Iris turned up to him, grinning at him. "That sounds great," she stated with gleaming eyes. "I've got so much more to tell you."

"I bet you do," Cilan chuckled. He reached up, smoothing back his hair before slipping it into his pant pocket. "So, you never told me why you were kicked out of your old home."

Iris' face turned slightly sour as she arched her eyebrow. "Why do you want to know so badly?" she asked, as a toothy grin formed on her lips.

"Just curious."

"So, you want to know so badly?"

"Yes, yes I would."

Iris swallowed thickly as her grin vanished. "Well, after Drayden was taken, I was really sad," she whispered, her Axew poking his head out of her hair to comfort her. "I cried for days, but then some bastards decided to pick on me. Once day I had enough of their crap, and . . . I beat them into a bloody pulp."

Cilan blinked, staring at her with wide eyes. Iris looked up at him and laughed. "What? You wanted to know," she said with a snarl. "That's what happened." The long-haired female then frowned, her brows creasing. "I still miss Drayden. It's amazing that I still remember him—I can't remember my parents or most of my childhood."

"Neither can I," Cilan whispered, his eyes hooded.

Both walked out into the brisk night air before Iris spoke. She leaned forward, her tone low: "You do realize that it's them that's making us forget, right?"

Cilan blinked, his eyes adjusting to the night and the street lamps. "You think?" he asked.

"Oh, I believe so."

"What would be the reason?"

Iris shrugged, her eyes looking off into the distance. "Make us forget the past so we can't judge the future," she whispered, the thought coming off the top of her head. "It makes sense to me."

Cilan thought for a moment, and slowly nodded his head. "If it is the truth, what is causing it?" he asked, eyes wide with confusion. "It has to be something."

"If there is, I can't figure it out," Iris whispered, turning up to sweetly smile at the Pansage that was pawing at its Owner's tuft of hair.

Cilan nodded, his eyes distant. "Iris," he called.

"Yeah?"

"When we were at the park, I saw something that made me miss pushing you."

"What was it?"

Cilan shook his head as he tried to place what he had seen. "It was a living creature," he said. "It stood tall, and walked on four legs. It ran off as soon as it noticed me. I think it was a Pokémon."

Iris looked up at him with large orbs that would blink every once in a while. It was like her mind was trying to process what he had just said. "A w-what?" she finally stammered out, her jaw slack.

"It had to have been," Cilan said, his hand moving as he spoke. "Humans can't stand on all fours. And there's no humans in the Wastelands. What else could've been?"

"But, Cilan, there are no Pokémon in the Wastelands—in the wild," Iris said, tugging on her friend's arm with interest and confusion. "C-could there?"

"I'm not sure, Iris, I could just be seeing things. I've been seeing things all my life," he said, and Iris gave him an unnerving expression. There was a pause. "There was something else I thought you could help me with."

"What?"

"I just said that I've been seeing things, right?"

"R-right."

"Well, the things I have been seeing I cannot truly describe," he said, his mind groping for the correct adjectives to explain what he had seen for so long. "The things I look at sometimes move, but they don't move—they just look like they're moving. They sometimes flash, but there is no light. I can't describe it at all. It's odd, frightening, yet so beautiful."

Iris looked him over, thinking and analyzing what he had just said. "I've never heard of that before," she said in a low tone. "I'm sorry."

Cilan let out a deep sigh. "I figured that you wouldn't," he whispered. "I wouldn't think that you would."

Iris bit her lower lip, and hung her head. She then lifted it up, a smile brimming on her face. It was a kind one, the one that Cilan had ached to see from someone—anyone. "Don't worry, we'll figure out what it is," she said. "But let's go home. To the roof tonight?"

Cilan grinned, his eyes soft. "Of course, the roof tonight," he stated, a finger pressed to his lips.

* * *

><p>"What the hell happened to your face?" Chili said, his eyes wide as he pointed to the thin stitching that crossed his cranium.<p>

Cilan's hand quickly went up to his newly stitched wound. "I wounded my head," he said.

"Really, I have never noticed," Cress stated, rolling his eyes as he shifted from standing to sit on the end of the bed.

"I don't need your sarcasm, thank you very much," Cilan grumbled, eyeing his brother. "So, how was work for you?"

Cress twitched, his eyes wide, but then he turned to his Panpour. "Nothing happened, really, today was a good day," he said quickly. "What about you?"

Cilan blinked, staring at his second brother. "Fine," he said. "Work was fine."

"Is that how you got that cut," Chili stated, reaching up to poke at the wound, causing Cilan to twitch.

"Don't touch it," Cilan grumbled, slapping his brother's hand away. "You might infect it."

"What?" Chili stated, staring at his palms. "They're clean. I've cleaned them multiple times during the day."

Cilan frowned, shaking his head as he picked up his dear Pansage, cradling him to his chest. "Well, I'm going to bath and same with Pansage," he said, gently rubbing the inner ear of his Pokémon, who was purring. "Come now."

* * *

><p>Pure white bubbles were stacked on each other as Pansage would splash around, his fat paws playing with the bubbles much like a child would. Cilan smiled at his sweet Pokémon as he shifted in the warm water. The human reached forward, grabbing hold of his Pansage, holding him close to his naked wet body. He sat the little monkey-like Pokémon between his legs as he reached for the bottle of soap. Cilan poured the cool liquid onto his palm, and he slowly rubbed it into his Pansage's fur.<p>

"Pansage pan," the Pokémon stated happily, his tail twitching from side to side.

Cilan grinned at his dear Pokémon. "You deserve a nice bath, don't you?" he asked, staring at the Pokémon with a grin.

"Pansage," agreed the Pokémon, who then splashed around in the water much like a child.

* * *

><p>"<em>I want out! I have spent too long in here! Please free me."<em>

"_Why? Why should I?"_

"_I don't want to be in here. What you are doing is wrong!"_

"_It may be wrong, but 'wrong' in this world no longer means what it originally meant before. So why does it matter? I am the Authority. Everything is 'right' simply because it is my word that says so."_

* * *

><p>Twelve o'clock rolled by slowly and almost painfully. Cilan sat in his bed, trying to fight off sleep as his Pansage sat comfortably beside him. The boy glanced over at his sleeping brothers, at their Pokémon deep in slumber, and he carefully moved. He moved the covers from his lithe body, his feet shuffled across the floor as he went to the window. The boy opened it, glancing at his small family before he scuffled outside into the cold night air. It gently kissed his warm flesh, refreshing his mind, body, and soul. He shivered delightfully, glancing about nervously for night guards. He turned, seeing Iris crouch not too far from him; waving her hand at him. He grinned, and returned the wave.<p>

"You came up here quick," Iris chuckled as she approached him.

"Well, I want to know more." He offered his hand to her, which she quickly took, and both sat down. Cilan smiled sweetly at her. "What do you have for me tonight?"

Iris grinned, eyeing him. "Well, there's lot to talk about," she said, throwing up her hands to the sky. "In other regions, people have these things called 'religions'."

"What is that?"

"It's a practice when you worship something called a 'god'."

"What is a god?"

"By the way it was described: it is an almighty, unseen being that created everything from nothing."

Cilan cringed his nose. "That cannot be possible," he muttered. "Creating something from nothing? How absurd!"

"Well, there are people in other regions that believe in a god or gods," Iris said. "They believe that the evil get punished by this god or gods, and the wicked go to a place called Hell—apparently it's a place of eternal pain and suffering. The good go to a place called Heaven—a place where happiness and joy only exists."

"How can that be? After death there is nothing else."

"Well, some people believe that after death, they live on in something called a 'soul'."

Cilan blinked, staring at her with confusion. "That's odd," he said, shaking his head. "But interesting, I must say. What else?"

"Well, when I was reading a novel back at my home, I saw words I've never seen before."

"Like what?"

Iris bit her lower lip, her face contorting into a thoughtful, thinking face. "Words like . . . 'green' and 'blue' and 'pink'," she said, arching her eyebrow, and then they knitted together.

Cilan blinked, looking right at her. "What are those?" he asked. "Those are most unique words. What do they mean?"

"I'm not sure. They were accompanied by the word 'colour.'"

"What is that?"

"I don't know," Iris grumbled. "I'm just telling you what I read."

Cilan nervously smiled, throwing up his hands in defeat. "Okay, okay, I yield," he said. "Sorry."

Iris shook her head, a smile on her face as she gently bumped her fist against his arm. "It's alright," she said. "But going back to what you saw today, are you sure it was a Pokémon?"

Cilan nodded his head, his eyes deep and filled with certainty. "I know it was, what else could it have been, Iris?" he said.

Iris blinked, turning her head to look off into the distance. "Do you know that Pokémon live in the wild in other regions," she whispered.

"Really?"

"From what I read."

"Then there must be a lot of trees there, and grass . . ."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"That sounds nice."

"Yeah."

"I've always liked trees."

"Me too."

Cilan pulled his legs to his chest, resting his chin on his knees and wrapped his arms around his folded legs. "I wish I could go there, even if it was just a day," he whispered, his head craning to the dark night sky above.

"Me too," Iris whispered, looking his slender frame over.

She had to admit: he was a handsome boy. His body fit and thin, his face perfectly shaped, and his eyes that seemed to peer at her, seeing her and her alone. Iris shivered, feeling something she had never felt before, and what surprised her was that she could not place it. She shook her head, shifting to look up to the star-speckled sky. Cilan turned to her, his eyes staring at hers, even though they were not directly aimed towards him. He sharply swallowed, cleared his throat, and inched closer to her.

"Iris, something bothering you?" he inquired, peering down at her.

Iris blinked, moving her head from the sky to look at him. She then sighed deeply. "I'm thinking about Drayden, that's all," she murmured, hanging her head. "Where do they take them?"

"Them who?"

"People who are seen as threats. Where do they go?"

Cilan swallowed sharply, his chest becoming constricted, feeling somehow guilty that he could not produce an answer for her. "I don't know," he retorted to say.

"Something tells me they do horrible things to them."

"Like what?"

"I-I don't know. And I don't think I want to know," she stammered, feeling her eyes stinging. "Something tells m-me that it's b-bad. I have d-dreams, and, and—I just don't know." Her hands flew to her face, trying to cover her fresh tears. "I'm s-scared, C-Cilan."

Cilan tensed, staring at her trembling body with horror. He then frowned, wrapping his arms around her, trying to comfort her. "There, there, everything will be fine," he breathed, watching as she tried to hide her tears. "There, there, now. Please don't cry."

But she continued, and he held her close, cooing to her gently, drying his tears with his thumb and pajama sleeve. Sometimes, he did wonder where people went when they were taken away, but he never had dreams about them. Where did they go? And what happened to them? When it was over, she hiccupped, and dried her face with her hands and sleeves, her face burning hot. "T-thanks," she whispered, pulling from his warm embrace almost regretfully. She quickly stood up. "I should go."

He nodded, standing himself. "Next time?" Cilan inquired.

She nodded. "Thanks again, Cilan," Iris whispered, refusing to meet his stare. "You're a good friend."

He blinked, and then he smiled. Cilan reached forward, patted her shoulder gently and kindly. "Till later then," he said.

Iris nodded, grinned, and then rushed to where her room's window was located. He watched as she safely entered her room before he left himself.

* * *

><p>"<em>I think I was seen."<em>

"_By who?"_

"_A boy."_

"_Oh, not a guard."_

"_Thankfully not."_

_A pause._

"_Do you want one of the soldiers to look him over?"_

"_What?"_

"_Do you want one of the soldiers to look him over? Then we can evaluate whether or not we should beware of him."_

"_That is a most ingenious idea. I wonder why I didn't think of it—after all, I am most brilliant."_

"_Yeah, yeah, we know. We know." A shake of the head and a dejected sigh. "So, sir, should I do it?"_

"_Yes, go on. Find the boy with pale skin, green eyes and hair, and a Pansage for his Pokemon. Now, go on now."_

* * *

><p><strong>Just so you know: I'm a deist. I always thought that religion being washed away or being pushed on was weird to me (and a little twisted), so I added the religion thing.<strong>


	8. A mate

**If any of you are fans of N, I'm sorry. You're going to hate me.**

* * *

><p>A mate<p>

VIII

_When he was first born, his father taught him any things: humans were evil, Pokémon are just tools, and to do as he said. And for a while, he did. But when he started to understand what he was doing was wrong, he protested against the Authority. His father, the Authority, was peeved to say the least. After all, he had trained his son to go along, and his son was defying him. And with that, the Authority took away his Zoura, never to be seen again, just to hurt the boy. The boy cried for days, knowing what had happened to his little friend—knowing what happened to all Pokémon that once belonged to humans._

"_Oh, grow up," the Authority hissed with malice. "It was just a Pokémon."_

"_No he was not," the boy, N, snapped back. "He was my friend."_

"_Friend or not, it does not matter anymore," his father said lowly. "He is gone, so stop your frivolous crying. It will not bring him back."_

"_H-how could you do that to me? Why w-would you take my only friend from me?"_

"_Because you are growing up, and you are going to be the next Authority. Do not be weak."_

"_I am not weak, if anything, you are the weak one."_

_A slap._

"_How dare you call me weak, you little bastard," the Authority growled. His hand reached for his shirt, and he gripped it tightly. "You don't know anything. You have no idea what being a man is, do you?"_

"_If being a man is you, I don't want to be a man."_

_Another slap._

"_Then you will suffer until you agree to me again."_

_Oh, and did N suffer._

_Day after day in a room, month after month of not seeing daylight—it has been too long. He yearns to be free, even if it was just for a day. But Unova is not free, and it would not be unless he did something about it. After being raped for the third time that day, N retched, feeling dirty and impure. No more of this. He did not want this anymore. That was when a plan developed in his mind: he knew what he had to do. He had to escape._

* * *

><p>Cilan tossed and turned in his sleep. His Pansage lay at his side, snoozing and snored rather loudly. The boy twitched, moving to lie upon his back as his head rotated to stare at the alarm clock. It is two in the morning. He could not stop thinking about Iris. She was still devastated by what had happened to Drayden. The poor thing. Cilan shifted to move his hands under his head, and he turned to stare up at the ceiling. He shifted, letting out a deep sigh from his mouth before allowing his hand to rest on the thick foliage of his Pansage. His mind drifted to Iris again, thinking about her. How long had he known her now? Almost three months if his calculations were correct. Poor little girl. Taken from her home and placed in a new place. She must have been thankful to have him as her friend.<p>

But his mind moved to her. Something inside him wanted to see her again. He wanted to see more and more of her. Cilan briefly wondered what her thick, luscious hair would look like down. Would it gently caress her body with soft waves and locks? What would it feel like in his hands? Cilan shivered delightfully (what were these feelings?), his eyes wide as more thoughts flooded his head. What about her skin? Was it soft as he had imagined? What about . . . _removing her clothes?_ Cilan shot up, panting, eyes practically bulging out of his head. He shivered, gritting his teeth, and he felt an odd, yet delightful wave of tingling sensations flood his body and what was most peculiar was that most of the sensations were between his legs. He did not completely hate it, but it startled him—he had never felt it before. The boy had not had any of these thoughts about anyone before or bodily sensations. Cilan had heard about boys and girls that had such dreams about the opposite sex (or the same sex, after all, that was wrong), and they were sent to be "fixed," much like Chili. He did not want to be "fixed," whatever that meant.

Cilan hung his head as he pounded closed fists against his temples. "Don't think that, don't think that," he whispered softly to himself. "Wrong thoughts."

But they felt so good.

The boy crunched up, his knees to his chest, his breathing steadied as he tried to calm himself. But his mind wondered about these sensations and feelings he had. They felt so good, and they warmed his body almost instantly. Did Iris have the same feelings about him? Cilan shook his head.

"No, no, it's wrong," he whispered.

Or is it? Cilan blinked, thinking deeply about the thought that had entered his head. Was it wrong, or was he taught that it was wrong? How could something that felt so good be so wrong? He shook his head, and rested back on the bed, cradling his sleeping Pansage to his chest.

And from not too far away, two eyes watched him with interest.

* * *

><p>"<em>He was sent—a soldier was sent."<em>

"_Oh, which one."_

"_Zarchin, our best one."_

"_Ah, excellent. How long will he watch the boy?"_

"_I told him for a week. Is that to your liking?"_

"_Oh, yes, a week sounds good."_

"_I wonder what he will find out."_

"_Who knows. Just wait and see."_

* * *

><p>The merry little Oshawott splashed around in the water, his little arms thrashing as did his stubby tail, creating little waves in the small porcelain tub. Iris placed her hands on the little creature, smiling at the small Oshawott.<p>

"Stop splashing around, little guy," Iris said to the small Pokémon. "You'll get soap in your eyes."

Her Axew sat at the edge of the tub, his little head poking over the smooth white wall as he watched the Pokémon with a sweet smile. The bathing rooms were large, and each foot or so were a small bath for Pokémon. There was Cheren in a corner, bathing a Lillipup, who was bouncing happily and thrashing his tail like the happy little creature he was. White was by his side, talking to him as she rubbed her fingers through a Woobat's fur. Word around the block was that they were going to be paired up as mates. The higher-up people made the decision when it came to partners and marriage. Those who had similar personalities (or similar likes and dislikes) were partnered up to live together. Apparently, Cilan had a partner waiting for him as well, and he would find out who she was later today.

"So, Iris, did you hear anything about your mate?" Cilan asked, flicking off the white soap that was settled on his hands. His Pansage nuzzled against the wet Panpour that sat in the tub, and both conversed in a small Pokémon conversation.

Iris glanced up, and shook her head, a grateful look on her face. "No, thankfully," she mumbled, rubbing the Oshawott's fur with slick soap. "Do you?"

"Yes."

"What is her name?"

"I'm not sure," Cilan said, gently picking up the Panpour, placing the creature to the side to dry him. "I'll find out more about her today."

Iris bit her lip, her brows furrowed. "I never liked the idea," she whispered, shielding the Oshawott's eyes as she rinsed the little creature's soapy body. "Having mates chosen for us."

"That's the way it is," Cilan mumbled.

"Still don't like it."

"Nor do I."

Iris lowered her head as she returned to rinsing the merry Oshawott. She then picked up the Pokémon, placing it on a small mat as she grabbed a dry towel, damping the thick fur dry. Cilan blinked, watching as the Oshawott flickered and blinked those strange hallucinations. The boy shook his head, turning to the Panpour, who also flicked with whatever he was seeing. Even the floor and the tiles did the same.

"Oh, my," Cilan whispered, trying to ignore it as he returned to his job.

Iris blinked, turning up to look at him. "Something wrong," she inquired, cocking her head to the side.

Cilan leaned forward, his voice low. "Remember those things I see at times?" he asked. "I told you, right?"

"Um, yeah," Iris said, bobbing her head up and down. "I remember that. Are you seeing them?"

"Yes, the floor and the Pokémon," he muttered, rubbing the Panpour's fur gently.

Iris frowned, staring at him sadly. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "So, you have no idea what they are?"

"No."

"Do you know anyone that has it as well?"

"No."

Thick brows furrowed, Iris stared at the boy. That was when footsteps were heard. A man with a suit and a badge entered the Pokémon bathhouse. Dark shades were covering his eyes, and he reached up, touching the brim of his hat. He was one of the higher-ups, which meant that he was in charge of everyday life for civilians. He spoke briefly to the woman behind the desk before approaching Cilan. The young man glanced up, feeling slightly intimidated by the man in dark sunglasses and decked in black. The older male flashed his badge, which was etched into the emblem of the Authortiy—and N with a Z slashing through it—and then he put it back into his breast pocket.

"Cilan Bourgeois?" he inquired, removing his tinted shades, revealing dark eyes.

The boy swallowed thickly, his Pansage jumping onto his back. "Yes, sir?" he asked, sounding calm and fearless.

Iris, meanwhile, was staring hatefully at the man. The cloaked man looked at her, and then turned back to the boy with the Pansage.

"Finish what you are doing and come with me."

"R-right."

Cilan did what he had said: he had dried the Panpour, put the little creature in its pin before returning to Iris. "Well, I'll see you soon," he said gently, a small smile on his lips.

She nodded. "The roof?" she inquired with a grin.

"The roof," he replied.

And with that, Cilan left with the man. While outside, him and the man walked side by side, neither of them talking—even Pansage was silent. And in a tree not too far away was a Pidove. It sat on the highest branch, hidden by thick foliage. It watched Cilan and the man before stealthily following them with silent wing beats and swift movements. It had to be careful—a wild Pidove had not been seen in so many years.

* * *

><p>"<em>I wonder how he is."<em>

"_The soldier?"_

"_Yes, of course."_

"_He's strong. I believe he is fine."_

"_I do hope so."_

"_You know how the humans are. These one's are crazy."_

"_Their Authority figure bastard did this to them. What's his name?"_

"_Ghetsis?"_

"_Yes, him. Ever since his family entered Unovian politics, things spun out of control."_

"_I heard he has a son."_

"_Really."_

"_Oh, yeah. You didn't know that?"_

"_What's his name?"_

"_N."_

"_N?"_

"_Yep."_

"_What a strange name. Where is he?"_

"_Locked up. His father locks him up and does shit to him."_

"_Like what?"_

"_God knows. Zarchin was taken before all of that happened, but he managed to escape before the humans could kill him. But he expects that something horrible is happening to his once Owner."_

"_He probably worries about him."_

"_I suspect he does."_

* * *

><p>He sat in a room all alone. There was a table, which he sat at, and two chairs (now one empty one was left). Cilan glanced around the room. There were no windows, the walls bare, and the floor was hard and cold to the touch. His fingertips tapped against the metal, and he hummed in his throat. His Pansage sat in his lap, and his free hand rubbed at the little Pokémon's fanned ear. Pansage nuzzled against Cilan's chest, listening to the gentle heartbeat of his Owner. The woman that was assigned to be with him in marriage would come soon, and he wanted to know who she was. What was her job? What was she like? But, also, how were Iris and Axew? Cilan wondered about the duo while he sat silently in his chair.<p>

The door at the opposite side of him opened, causing him to glance up, and a woman in dark clothing and short-bobbed hair entered with a pen and papers at her breast. She glanced up, offering Cilan a smile.

"Hello," she greeted.

"Hello," he returned.

The woman stepped aside, and a Deerling entered. It sniffed the sale room air before entering. Pansage left Cilan's lap, and climbed onto the table. Both Pokemon touched noses as both sniffed each other. Then a girl roughly about his age and height entered. Her hair was large, curled at the edges, and fanned out along her shoulders. She wore a dress that clung to her hips, and her hands were gripped at her front. The woman with the papers and pen closed the door, and smiled.

"Cilan Bourgeois, meet Burgundy Lawless," she stated. "Burgundy Lawless, meet Cilan Bourgeois."

He looked over the girl in front of him. He remembered her; she was like Chili. She was different, along the lines of "eccentric," and she was taken away. Six months later, she was never her old self. Cilan had seen her face a few times while going through his daily life, so he was not completely surprised to see her. She chewed on her lower lip and she sat down in the empty seat.

"Hello," she stated, placing her hands timidly on her lap.

"Hello," Cilan stated.

The woman glanced between them before clearing her throat. "I'll let you talk," she said. "But please sign this paper." She took a sheet of paper, placing it on the metal table, and put the pen on the table as well.

Cilan blinked, staring at the piece of paper. Paragraphs were on it, and at the very bottom were some lines that were there for a signature. "What is this?" he asked.

"Marriage paper," she said. "When you sign this, it will go into effect in two months, and you will live together in your own home."

Burgundy turned up her head, staring at the woman. "But, may I talk to him first before I sign anything?" she questioned.

"No, you may not. Sign."

Burgundy and Cilan exchanged looks, but then she shook her head, grabbed the pen and paper, and signed her name. She pushed it over to him, and he gave it an icy stare. The woman next to him looked at him expectantly, but his arms did not budge.

"Mr. Bourgeois, sign the paper please."

Cilan looked at her, his stare practically empty, but he knew he had to comply. He signed the paper, and reluctantly pushed it over to her. She took it, and smiled.

"Thank you," she said, and she left the room.

There was an awkward silence between the two now married young adults. Mr. and Mrs. Bourgeois. Burgundy looked at him, and she nibbled on her lip.

"So, we're married," she mumbled.

"Yeah," Cilan sneered. "Nice to meet you."

She chuckled darkly, hanging her head, and her hand reached for her Deerling. "So, Cilan," she began, "what do you do for a living?"

"I work at the Hatchery."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Is it good pay?"

"Yes, really good."

"Ah."

Another pause.

"What do you do?" Cilan inquired as his Pansage crawled back into his lap, and he stroked the little creature fondly.

"Me? I work as a chef," she said, her Deerling resting its head on her lap.

Cilan blinked, staring at her. "You're a chef?" he inquired.

"Yes."

"I always wanted to cook."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but I was told to stop. How did you get the job?"

She paused, her mind reeling as she tried to remember exactly how she got the job. "I didn't just sign up for it," Burgundy then answered. "Someone helped me get it. I just can't remember who helped me." She shrugged. "But, yeah, I'm a chef."

Cilan nodded, his hand running down Pansage's spine. "Do you have any sibling?" he inquired.

"No. Do you?"

"Yes, two brothers."

"Oh, how are they?"

"They're fine. My brother, Cress, works with children. And my other brother, Chili . . . he's a janitor."

"A janitor?" Burgundy inquired, startled.

Cilan nodded slowly, a frown on his thin lips. "Yes," he murmured. "A janitor."

The girl that sat across from him, her eyebrow raised, and she still had a surprised look on her face. Her Deerling nudged her lovingly before she returned it with several pets and strokes. This was who he was going to live with for the rest of his days, and he was not completely thrilled. He closed his eyes, and he thought about Iris and Axew, and he started to relax.

And those sensations returned.

* * *

><p><em>Air ducts. He could escape through the air ducts. They went through the large building and led outside. If he could get into there, he could escape. N rubbed his bare shoulders, his eyes darting around the place, a small smile on his lips. He could escape, he could be free. He could get out of here, and away from him. N had an idea how to get out, he now had to put it into motion soon.<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Hey, does anyone have a Zoura? I'd like to trade sometime, or whenever I find random WiFi.<strong>


	9. Let's talk about    sex?

**I forgot to mention: this fanfiction is based 70 years _after_ the anime. So, Ash was traveling around with two completely different traveling partners in this AU, and all the characters in the Unova region did not exist. So, all the Gym Leaders were different, people Ash met in the anime, etc. So, currently, Ash is 80 something years old as this is going on and living in Kanto.**

**Another thing, and this is very, _very_ important. It concerns all fan-artists/fanfiction-writers and, really, anybody. Go to my deviantART journal for more to see how you can help stop a stupid bill from being passed that says we stream shit that's copyrighted.**

* * *

><p>Let's talk about . . . sex?<p>

IX

"So, what's she like?" Iris inquired as she jumped from one small brick wall to the next as they walked along to their homes.

"Who?" Cilan asked, his Pansage perched on his shoulder, though he knew what she meant.

Iris eyed him as her Axew popped from her thick mane. "Oh, c'mon, you know who I'm talking about," she murmured, shaking her head. "Your new wife."

Cilan sighed deeply, shifting his hips so that his hand could slip into his pocket, and he rolled his eyes. "Her name is Burgundy Lawless," he muttered, not even looking at his acrobatic friend. "She's a chef."

"Oh, that's neat."

"She has my dream job."

"You wanted to be a chef?"

"Yes, I always wanted to be a chef," Cilan said curtly, smiling sadly at his old dream. "But I was encouraged to not go into it."

Iris frowned, her eyebrows narrowed. "Well, you should've fought it," she said, pounding her fist into her open hand. "If that was your dream, you should have fought until you got to be a chef." She jumped down from the end of the brick wall, and landed gracefully on the clean stone ground.

He paused, still smiling, but this one was more cheerful and sweet. "Well, if I would have fought them on it, I would have never met you," he said, a small smirk on his thin lips.

Iris paused, her expression in one of utter surprise. Axew looked at her, and chuckled before retreating back into her thick mane of a ponytail. He continued to smirk at her, and she turned away, her face hot and her heart pounded.

"Yeah, well, you still should have fought for it, Cilan," she said quickly as she started to pick up her walking pace.

He chuckled, and he walked with a bounce in his step as he approached his side. "Is Iris a little bashful?" he teased, looking down at her face.

Her lips were tightly pressed together, and she refused to meet his eyes. She then relaxed, sighing deeply. "You know, Cilan, besides Drayden and Axew, you're my first real friend," she stated, finally looking up at him.

His smirk vanished, and it was his turn to be surprised. "Really?" Cilan asked, his Pansage leapt onto the ground, walking along side his human Owner. "You didn't have any back at your home?"

"Not really," she murmured, staring down at her shoes and leggings. "I was the 'different' one, and no kid wanted to play with me. I was always left out in games—no one wanted to play with me at all. I was like tabooed or something." Iris shrugged, moving her fingers back and forth in the air. "And when I beat the crap out of that boy before I was sent here, then no one really didn't want to see or talk to me."

"Was that your first fight?"

"Ever heard of the saying 'three strikes, you're out'?"

"Yes."

"That was my third strike."

Cilan nodded, imagining his Iris pounding someone's face in until he or she bled grey blood. He shook his head, closed his eyes, and then opened them, and watched as the bricks trembled with those flashes and flicks. He focused on them, swallowing thickly as he did so. Iris turned her head, looking right at her best (human) friend.

"Cilan, you okay?"

"The flashes," he murmured. "They're back."

Iris looked to where he was staring, and sighed deeply. "Don't you get tired of seeing them?" she inquired, turning to look in front of her.

Both were silent as crowds of people went by, but then Cilan spoke silently: "Sometimes, but they still interest me."

"What could they mean?"

"I'm not sure. There must be something scientific to explain it."

"Maybe. Or maybe you're just a freak."

He playfully glared at her, and then hung his head back, laughing out loud. She joined him, hugging his arm tightly. Cilan then calmed himself, eyeing her with a small smile that gently creased his lips.

"The roof?"

"The roof," she returned with a grin.

* * *

><p>"<em>How are the troops?"<em>

"_Training is normal and well."_

"_Are they getting stronger?"_

"_Every day they do."_

"_Wonderful. Anything from Zarchin?"_

"_No. I told you it would be a while. He must collect data from the boy."_

"_Right. I'm just a little impatient."_

"_I know."_

"_I'm scared too."_

"_I know."_

* * *

><p>Cress had dark circles under his eyes, and her nervously touched that said skin tenderly with cold fingertips. He looked wretched. His hands gripped the sides of the sink with anger and disgust as the top of his head touched the bathroom mirror. His Panpour sat on the closed toilet seat, staring up at his human Owner. There was a look of worry and confusion on the face of the water monkey.<p>

"Pan panour?" the Panpour inquired, his chubby paws touching his Owner's white lab coat, which was normal wear for those working with children.

Cress had a blank stare as he looked at his own reflection. He looked like washed up garbage. He exhaled deeply, his head spinning. His job was . . . _horrible_. That was a good word for it. _Horrible_. He wanted to help people with their dysfunctional children, but . . . but this. This was horrible. What they were doing to the children was revolting, disgusting, and just wrong.

Cress blinked, turning to look at his Pokémon, his eyes hooded and his jaw slack. "I hate my job," he murmured, almost in a daze. "You saw what they did to the children."

Panpour hung his head, a frown on his furry lips. Cress reached over, his fingertips touching the soft tuft on the head of the small monkey-like Pokémon. He shook his head, his heart racing. He had to act like everything was fine. Life was fine. Life was great. The human then reached over to turn on the faucet, and cold water rushed out of the spout. Cupping his hands, icy cold water filled his palms, and he splashed it on his face, his body trembling from the sudden burst of cold. He groaned, turning off the faucet, and sighed deeply.

A knock on the door.

"Cress?" Chili called from the other side.

"What?" Cress called irritably.

"You okay?"

Could he not sense the anger in his voice? Cress took a breath of air, and exhaled deeply. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said, his voice calmer than before. He reached to grab a towel to dry his wet face. "Is Cilan back?"

"No, but he should soon."

Cress nodded, his arm offered to his Panpour, who climbed up onto it, and Cress opened the door. Chili stood there, looking like the walking dead with those sullen features and darkened eyes. The other brother blinked, staring at Cress.

"You look horrible," Chili muttered, eyeing his brother.

"Look who's calling the kettle black," Cress stated, moving past his brother and flopped onto the bed.

Chili blinked, staring at Cress with an arched eyebrow. Panseat, who sat on a cushioned chair, jumped down and joined Panpour and Cress on the bed.

"Is it work?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Chili blinked his dull eyes, and then shrugged. "Okay," he said, and he entered the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Cress eyed the closed door, and then sighed heavily, reaching over for his Panpour, pulling the little creature close. Pansear cocked his head, staring at the human.

"Pansear pan?" the Pansear stated, worry creased his face. His fat paw touched Cress' hair, confused about the boy and worried for his health.

Cress' eyes moved up, and he slowly smiled at the Pansear. "I'm fine," he stated, reaching up to touch the Pokémon on the top of the head.

The door to the room opened, and a semi-jubilant Cilan entered. His Pansage sat on his shoulders like a bird Pokemon would. He had a calm serene smile on his lips, but it fell off as soon as he saw Cress lay motionlessly on the bed.

"Cress?" Cilan inquired, turning his head to the side slightly, his eyes narrowed.

"That's my name," Cress muttered into the pillow. "Don't wear it out."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Cilan shook his head, moving over to sit at the corner of the bed, next to his brother. He reached out, pushing aside his long, thick bangs.

"Doesn't look like nothing's the matter," he stated. "What is the matter?"

"Nothing," Cress repeated, rolling over on his other side to turn away from his brother. "It's just work. It was long and tiring. Okay?"

Cilan exchanged looks with his Pansage and sighed. "Okay," he breathed. There was a pause. "I'm married now."

Cress blinked, and then turned back on his back, staring at his brother. "They found a mate for you?" he asked.

"Yes."

"What is her name?"

"Burgundy Lawless."

"Oh. When will you move in with her?"

"Two months from now."

Cress frowned, turning up to look at the ceiling. "Do you like her?" he inquired, looking back to his brother.

"Not really. I mean, she seems nice and all, but I don't want to be with her."

"I understand. I guess Chili and I will be next."

That was when Chili exited the bathroom. His pointy hair was disheveled, and his chest was bare as a damp towel was draped over his shoulders.

"I'm next for what?" he asked, his hands rubbing at his cheek.

Cress turned his head up. "Cilan's married," he said.

"What? So soon? To who?"

"Her name's Burgundy," Cilan answered quickly, reaching for his Pansage, placing the little creature onto his lap. "I'll be moving out in two months."

There was a sad emotion that spread across Chili's dull face. His eyes looked away, and then back at his brother. "Oh," he breathed. "I hope you're happy."

Cilan looked up at his brother, and nodded his head slowly as he fondly stroked the thick foliage on top of Pansage's head.

* * *

><p>Cilan gently prodded at his scar while waiting for Iris to come up onto the roof. He frowned, wondering when it was going to heal. It sure was taking its sweet time. He knew he should not be touching it. The last thing he wanted was to infect it. Cilan pulled back his hand, resting it on his lap before glancing around the roof to where Iris would come from. Where was she? It was twelve-thirty. She was late. He pulled his legs to his chest, and hummed to himself. He then heard the light thumping of pitter-patter along the roof.<p>

"Sorry I'm late," Iris said as she approached his side. "White wouldn't get to sleep."

He smiled up at her. "It's okay," Cilan stated, resting his hand against his cheek.

She sat down next to him, mimicking his seating style with a soft smile. Iris then cocked her head, looking at his stitching. "How's the cut?" she asked gently, pointing up to his cut.

He slapped his hand to it, grinning nervously. "It's fine," Cilan stated, turning away from her. "It's healing."

"Oh, good."

She drew her hand back, placing it in her lap. "Okay," Iris stated, looking away from him. "You know, Cilan, when you move away, we won't be able to do this anymore."

He turned up to her, an expression of sadness across his slender features. "I know," he breathed, moving his legs closer to his body. "That'll be a sad day." He then smiled sweetly at her. "But, we'll still see each other at work."

Iris only looked at him from the corners of her eyes; there was evident sadness in them. "It won't be the same," she murmured.

His smile faded, and he looked at her with the same despondency. Cilan swallowed thickly, and then moved closer to her, wanting to be closer to her. Iris shifted, staring up with sweetened innocence to the sky above. The stars dotted the blanket of darkness that stretched across the sky as a full grey orb hung there.

"They're so beautiful," she whispered dreamily.

Cilan blinked, staring at her with a quizzed expression. "What is?" he inquired, turning his head to the side to look right at her.

"The sky," Iris answered, leaning against him, causing him to burn up within his cheeks. "It's so beautiful. I always loved looking up at it. It makes me feel so calm inside."

Cilan glanced up into the sea of blackness above. "It is lovely," he whispered, placing his head against hers, feeling safer with her.

It was odd. Both had never felt these types of aches and feelings before. It was strange, but neither objected to those sensations they felt—they simply welcomed it. Iris moved closer to him, and she could hear his heart beat softly within his chest. She then turned up to look at his slender face. She then stated: "I wanted to tell you something that the people in the other regions do. Maybe you can help me understand why they do it."

Cilan turned to her, eyes upon her with glee and interest. "What is it?" he asked playfully.

Iris looked up to the sky, a frown on her face. "Well," she began, motioning her hand, "they call it something I've never heard of before."

"Okay, what is it called?"

"Sex."

"Oh, sex." A pause from Cilan. "What is sex?"

Iris pulled herself away to completely look at him. "It's something that adults in the other regions do," she stated quickly.

"What is it, exactly?" he inquired.

Iris cocked her head to the side. "Well, I read a novel about it," she said. "A man and a woman were doing it." She paused to recollect her thoughts. "It went something like this . . ."

And so she spoke. She recalled every detail in the book. The man and the woman doing something like "kissing," and then removing their clothes, and doing _other_ things Cilan thought were strange and disgusting, yet somehow appealing. His body tingled greatly when she spoke, and his face burned greatly, and his face contorted to a feature of disgust, confusion, and interest. When she had finished, her body felt strange as well, but she liked it. She rubbed her legs together, looking at him with an amused face.

"People do this?" Cilan asked after the moment of silence.

"Yeah, I guess," she stated, licking her dry, chapped lips.

"What's the reason?" Cilan inquired, his face gagging at the strange ritual that the people in the other regions did.

"I'm not sure," Iris said, her face mystified by what he had said. "In the novel, both found it in pleasure, so I'm guessing they do it to feel good."

"B-but," Cilan stammered, his mind trying to understand what she had said. "It sounds, disgusting and messy."

Iris laughed, but then clamped her hands over her mouth, and glanced around, making sure that no one had heard her. Cilan did it as well, and then stifled his own chuckle.

"And when they pressed their mouths together, what was it called again?"

"Kissing."

Cilan nodded, his brows creased in thought. "Sounds revolting," he said, sticking out his tongue and visibly gagged. "Why would you want to put your tongue in another's mouth?"

"I guess it's to show affection," Iris offered. She then flashed a playful smile, and crossed her arms over her chest as her eyes closed tightly. "Let's all swap spit."

Cilan nearly choked on his laugh, causing him to let out a deep cough and a wide grin as his hands slapped over his mouth. "Iris," he said in short of breath, "you're going to get us caught. Don't make me laugh."

Iris nodded quickly, her smile never leaving her lips. "Sorry," she breathed.

He smiled down at her, and then the smile washed from his face like a sand castle at a coming tide. "Iris, they also said something during . . . um, sex, right?" he asked. "What were they saying?"

"Oh, you mean, '_I_ _love you_'?" she breathed.

"Yes, what does that mean?"

* * *

><p>"<em>Banish love. People cannot love anything. No one can be attached to anything or anyone."<em>

* * *

><p>"I have no idea."<p>

Cilan frowned, looking up to the sky, almost hoping that the sky would give him the answer. He then sighed deeply, standing into a crouch, and he offered his hand to her. "I think it is time to get some sleep," he said.

Iris took his hand, and both stood up. She nodded, her head hung and her hands gripped at her sides. Cilan looked at her, curiosity spread across his features. "What's the matter?" he asked sincerely, reaching over to touch her hand.

Iris looked up at him, a small sad smile on her lips. "I'm going to miss you terribly when you leave," she whispered.

"But we'll still see each other at work."

"But still . . ."

Cilan starred at her, and sighed, pulling her into a tight hug. "Don't worry, things won't change," he whispered to her. "You're still my friend."

Her slender arms wrapped around his frame. "Thank you, Cilan, you're the best," she stated. She reluctantly pulled away from him, their hands interlocked for a brief moment before Iris scampered away from him. He watched her with a small closed-lipped grin before returning to his own room.

And two eyes watched him, documenting everything before flying off.

* * *

><p><em>N's clothing was on and a small glowing stick hung from his neck. He had stocked bottled water and fun, putting them into a shoulder bad. He normally would keep his clothing off, because his father would rip them off anyways, so it would not matter. But now he had to—he had to leave. N tied his shoelaces together, and then placed his foot back onto the floor. It felt odd that he was wearing clothing. It had been so long. N twitched as he looked at the vent for the ventilation. The boy grabbed a chair, pulling it over to the vent, and stood on the chair. He reached up, pushing up against the metal vent, and he saw the opening of the metal tubing. He felt a wave of fear rush over him, but he knew he had to do it. N took in a breath, and pulled himself into the ventilation system. The metal was tight, cold, and cramped. But he moved silently and swiftly. He knew how to get out of here—just follow the ventilation. The outside of the building was west, so he would go west. He crawled, his body hurting as he moved. He tried to keep silent—the last thing he wanted to do was make a lot of noise. He did not want the guards to hear him as he went through the vents. N shuffled through, his long hair splayed across his back and over his shoulders; hanging limp there and moved as he did.<em>

_He found it difficult to breath, but sometimes cold air would rush by him, causing him to shiver violently from time to time. N paused when he reached a fork in the vents. Left or right? He looked between both openings as his stick illuminated the way for him to see._

"_Which way," he breathed softly. "Left or right?"_

_He hummed to himself, and then he closed his eyes, picturing himself when he used to live outside of his room. He had to be in the hallway that led down from his room. To the left was his father's room, and to the left was another hallway that led to the bookroom. And that led to outside—there were windows there. N blinked, and then he moved to the left. He soon reached another vent, and he pressed his face against the cold metal bars. From what he could see in what little light he had, he saw a desk and a few scattered chairs. He grabbed the vent cover, and pushed forward, causing it to fall with a loud __**clank**__ on the wooden desk. N cringed, and paused. When no one appeared, he assumed that no one had heard. N then moved himself out of the vent, and carefully landed on the desk._

_The bookroom had not really changed in the last few years. Large wooden bookshelves loomed with many books held on their shelves. There were many volumes of each book that he had seen here, but the books here were the last ones of their kind—the others had been burned or altered considerably. N used to read them all the time, curious and amazed by everything they held within their pages. The People had never read them; they did not even know that these books existed._

_N knew he could not go to the People; they could not and would not help him. They had no idea what lay beyond. None knew the simple things: love, a true family, sex . . . or even rape. N cringed, knowing that he was all alone. The People were afraid of the Authority, and thus they would be too afraid to help him._

_The boy blinked, carefully moving off of the desk, and glanced around, making sure that he was alone. N swallowed thickly, gripping his arm tightly. He felt a piercing stare, and then there was a voice:_

"_You got out."_

_N jumped, and saw as a masked slender figure stepped from the shadows. One of the Shadow Traid. The male moved forward, staring down hard at N._

"_Bravo."_

"_Leave me alone," N threatened, his voice laced with a feel of bravado._

_The first Shadow Traid blinked, and then moved forward. "I thought I heard something," he said, voice low and even._

_N swallowed thickly._

"_I'm going to have to return you."_

"_No, no you won't," N stated firmly, his hands trembling with fear. "I don't want to ever go back."_

"_That is not my choice. This is what your father requires of me."_

"_I don't care! You know what he does to me."_

_The other male was silent. He stepped forward, and N moved back. He bumped into a wooden chair, and he paused as his hand moved back, touching the cold, smoothed wood. An idea popped into his head, and he clung to the wood. The first Shadow Traid member outstretched his hand to N, and paused in his steps._

"_Come, my Lord N," he said. "Time to return."_

_N shook his head defiantly. "No, I'm not going back," he growled out, and he moved._

_It happened in a single moment. N held onto the back of the chair, and flung it at the Shadow Traid member, who was too surprised to move out of the way as the object smashed into his stomach, sending him flying back and into a wall. N moved, grabbing another chair, throwing it into one of the windows, causing it to break. Cold and sharp glass shards flew, some hitting the ninja-like male, some hitting the floor, and most of it colliding into N. The boy kept his eyes closed and waited for a moment before jumping out of the window, landing on the hard roof. He rolled until he rolled completely off of the roof, landing hard on the ground. _

_And alarm went off, and N twitched on the cold, dew-covered grass. He quickly stood up, and ran as fast as he could. He climbed up a cold metal fence, scratching his hands on the sharpened metal, but he did not feel pain—no one could ever feel physical pain anymore. N landed on the ground as he jumped off of the metal chain-linked fence. He hit the hard dirt, causing his clothing to become dirty, but he did not care. He glanced up, hearing the sounds of the alarm, a voice on the intercom, and the barking of the guard Pokémon. N then turned, seeing the dazzling lights of some Community back in the distance. He then glanced over to the Wastelands. He had to go that way. He took in a breath, and ran into the barren landscapes; far from his father and from all of the lies._


	10. Tell

Tell

X

_The sun was boiling, beaming down at the lone figure that had been moving in the same direction for some days now. He didn't carry enough food and water with him._

_N staggered along, his brain throbbing in his skull. He should have kept more food and water with him. Saliva rolled down his chin, his stomach groaned horribly, wanting to be filled with water or food—something. The Shadow Traid and some guards were probably going after him. Where was he, exactly? It was hard to tell—everything looked the same. The land was barren, there were no trees, the water was dark in a shade; he could be anywhere. Sluggishly, N moved his heavy legs, one foot in front of the next. Keep going. Keep moving. _

_The sun was hot on his body, and N began to see things. He would reach out dumbly to the object, but nothing would happen. His hand would just go through the image, as if he was touching mist. He remembered reading books about a god named Arceus. Was Arceus watching above? What if N begged, would Arceus help him?_

_The boy fell to his knees on the hot ground, and then he fell forward, laying limp on the hot dirt. He was panting loudly, saliva rolling like a waterfall out of his opened mouth. His vision was blurry, his heart thumping in his breast, and he twitched._

"_Oh, Arceus," he begged to the sky. "Please, if you're real, please help me."_

_There was silence. The wind blew, kicking up brown dirt, creating a fine dust that covered his body. He did not know how long he was there—seconds, minutes, hours? He could not tell. Was he just imagining things, or was that footsteps? If they were, they were coming close. N turned up his head, seeing a slender, four-legged figure hover over him. It had the body of a Deerling, but it was much larger than any Deerling he had ever seen. The creature was blocking out the sun as the shadow was cast over him in an almost threatening manner. It stood tall, elegant, and proud as it loomed over the boy, who was clinging so desperately to life, but was on the verge of tasting cold death. On its neck were two leaf-shaped objects that suck out from either side. On its head, the creature had horns that were dull and curled in at the end. On its feet there was a resemblance of knee-high boots and the hooves were sharp and pointed. N lifted up his head, spit covering his face and dripped from his chin and his hand gripped his empty shoulder bag._

"_Who are you, human?" the figure growled out._

"_My name is N," the boy sluggishly stated, wet and dried saliva caked his lips and cheeks._

"_Why are you here?"_

"_I ran away."_

"_From who?"_

"_My father."_

"_Who is your father?"_

"_The Authority."_

_The being shifted, and there was a gasp of surprise. The figure then composed itself, and there was a loud swallow. "Are you a spy for him?" the voice snarled out, stomping its hoof, fearing the answer._

"_No. I didn't want to be hurt by him anymore."_

_The being stared at him, and there was a new-found compassion in its eyes. "How long have you been out here?" the voice asked soothingly._

"_I don't remember."_

"_Are you hungry?"_

"_I'm starving."_

_The being nodded its head, and stooped down low, its mouth grabbing N by his shirt. "Stand, human," it said through a mumbled voice. "And get onto my back."_

_N sat up slowly, his hands reaching for the thick body, hanging onto the body as the head of the being lifted him up onto his feet. A hoofed leg pushed the boy fully onto his back, where N hung there much like hunter would sling over hunted meat. His arms and legs dangled from both sides as the being moved. N lifted up his head slightly, staring at the creature._

"_What is your name?" N inquired, his hand reaching up to dry his wet chin._

"_Virizion."_

"_Where are you taking me?"_

"_Somewhere safe."_

_A pause._

"_Your father will never hurt you again."_

"_T-thank you."_

* * *

><p>Cilan was excused from his job today to spend time with Burgundy, just like all new married couples were supposed to. For some reason, there were more guards and police prowling the streets than normal. Her Deerling and his Pansage would converse with each other in their own Pokémon language, but it was nothing like Pansage and how he acted with Axew. But they talked gently as Pansage sat on top of Deerling. Burgundy glanced at the police that traveled the streets, and as police cars followed slowly after those decked in uniforms. Burgundy paused, staring at the automobiles with the lights on the top of the roof.<p>

"I wonder what's going on," Burgundy whispered to Cilan.

Cilan watched the smoothed gleaming car slowly drive in the street, the inhabitants within the man-made creation glanced around the streets and walkways, like they were searching for something or someone.

"I'm not sure," Cilan answered, arching an eyebrow to them as they disappeared down another street. "I'm not sure." He looked at her, a frown on his slender lips. "So, where are we going?"

Burgundy pulled out a slip of paper from her breast shirt pocket, and opened it up. "Brick Café," she answered, showing him the slip of paper.

The higher-ups had set their dates—to get "acquainted" with each other before they would live within the same home. Every Sunday until the two months was up. Cilan took the slip of paper, nodded, and handed it back to her.

"Right, this way," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets as he walked ahead of her.

He was not too fond of being controlled like a puppet—personally he wanted to sneak off with Iris to do something with her. But Cilan kept his mouth closed, and he gently nibbled at the flesh of his lower lip. Burgundy picked up her pace, joining him by his side, and her hand linked with his arm. He was silent, staring at her hand that was touching his long, white-sleeved shirt. Cilan sighed, pretending that it was Iris' hand and not hers.

"You know, one of the higher-ups said that you hang out with a girl all the time," Burgundy stated in complete innocence. "What's her name?"

"Iris Rockwell," Cilan stated quickly, a small smile spreading across his lips. "She's a good person. I rather like her. She's my best friend."

Burgundy looked up at her husband, and her eyes flickered with something he couldn't quite place at the moment. "I never had a best friend," she stated sadly, looking to the cobble stone ground under their feet. "I was never really liked."

Cilan frowned, his brows creased tightly as he slightly grimaced. "Really?" he asked softly, feeling that same unwanted feeling of déjà vu wash over him.

"Yeah, because I was 'different.' Then I got 'fixed,' and I am who I am now."

_Fixed_. Cilan was beginning to hate that word.

"Oh, here it is."

The café was a quaint one. Potted plants sat in pots along the sides, the windowsills, and near the front door. Some metal tables sat outside in the cool breeze. Most were adults that attended to the café—and there were hardly any Pokémon there. In fact, Pansage and Deerling were the only Pokémon in that said café. Other than that, it was a nice place to go out for a bite to eat. Burgundy tugged at Cilan's arm, pulling him inside.

"C'mon, let's get inside."

* * *

><p>"<em>My Lord!"<em>

"_Zarchin? Is that you?"_

"_Yes, my Lord."_

"_Well, spill it, soldier. What's the boy up to?"_

"_We don't have to worry—he and a girl are . . . what humans here call 'social deviants.'"_

"_Really?"_

"_Yes. They meet on the roof, and talk about things that only happen in other regions, I believe."_

"_The boy or the girl?"_

"_The girl. Apparently she knows about the other regions."_

"_How?"_

"_I'm not sure."_

"_So we don't have to worry about him?"_

"_I highly doubt it. He seems curious about what he had seen."_

"_So he really did see Virizion?"_

"_I think he did—yes, my Lord, I believe so."_

"_I see."_

_There was a pregnant pause._

"_My Lord."_

"_Yes?"_

"_I'm worried about the boy and the girl. The girl, Iris, has been in trouble with fighting at her old home. Three strikes, she's out—and you know what happens to those who don't get along."_

"_Yes, and the boy?"_

"_He has shown some social deviancy when he was younger, so I read, but he's kept his trap shut. Both have become very good actors, but Iris might be in the most danger. She might explode, and take her away, and Cilan and her seem attached."_

"_In what way?"_

"_I believe that they're in love, and they just don't know it."_

"_That's right; love no longer exists here in the human realm."_

"_I fear for them."_

_The other being stood there, nodding his head._

"_Yes, they could be in danger. I will talk to the others about this. As you know, we try to protect those who can't protect themselves. I will see what I can do for this Iris and Cilan. Let's go talk to Virizion."_

"_Yes."_

* * *

><p>"Is something the matter?" Burgundy inquired.<p>

The atmosphere of the café was calm as a soothing sound of a violin echoed throughout the small brick building. Cilan, with his fork, picked with the light green lettuce that sat on his white, floral-patterned plate. He gently turned over the lettuce piece before glancing up at her.

"Oh, fine, just fine," he muttered, pushing himself from his slouched position, and sat against his chair. "I'm just thinking to myself."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Naw. I'm fine."

He really didn't want to talk to her. However, his mind still raged. Why was he so obsessed with Iris? He thought about her constantly—he felt a tad creepy thinking about her as much as he had, but his body seemed to like thinking about her; it tingled and shivered delightfully. And that sensation between his legs returned. He shifted uncomfortably, and crossed his legs tightly, and then he cleared his throat awkwardly.

"I'm perfectly fine."

Burgundy looked him up and down, and then nodded, returning to her cooked dish. Her Deerling and his Pansage nibbled at the food that was set on the floor in perfect golden bowls. Cilan reached down, stroking the thick foliage on top of Pansage's head. With his other hand, he reached for his cup of hot tea, and slowly drank from it. The girl across from him looked at him sadly, as if she really wanted to talk to him, but then sighed. He glanced over to her.

"What's wrong?" he asked gently.

"I want to talk to you."

"About?"

"Something. You've been silent all this time."

He swallowed thickly, and placed his cup down. "How many children do you want?" Cilan whispered, turning his head from her.

Burgundy smiled, staring at her husband. "I want at least two," she said joyfully.

Getting children was a difficult task. If a couple wanted to have a child, they had to wait until some slots opened. Once they signed up for a slot, they could have only one child per slot (or if you had enough money, you could bribe). The moment they signed, they would be put into separate rooms, and both would be put under with anesthetics, and when they woke up, a child would be growing within a tube. It was just how it worked—and when the child had finished growing, the couple would pick it up to take home.

"Two. That's a nice number."

He reached up to touch his healing cut, and felt the skin fold up and tightly closed. He had to clean it when he returned home. Burgundy glanced at the scar, a surprised look on her face.

"I never noticed that. What happened to your head?"

Cilan blinked, and then flashed a phony smile. "I just had an accident, it's nothing serious," he said, waving down his hand at her.

She looked at him, and nodded. "You shouldn't touch it, you could infect it," she mumbled, taking a small bite from her meal.

He looked at her, flabbergasted that she would say that—and then he smiled. It was something that Iris would say.

* * *

><p><em>N slowly opened his eyes, his vision blurred, and it was difficult to place what he was looking at. He blinked several times before his sight was corrected. He was looking up at a cave-like ceiling. Perspiration rolled off stalactites and dripped onto his forehead. He sighed deeply, and he turned his head to the side. There he saw an Audino, a rather skinny one, but it was an Audino. The Pokémon shuffled around until turning back to look at him. It smiled warmly at him.<em>

"_Audi audino," it said, approaching his side._

"_Hello," he rasped out as its curled, slender feelers brushed over his face and chest._

"_Audino," the Pokémon greeted, its small paws patting N on the shoulder._

_N then looked around the place he was in. It was a dark cave that was lit up with torches that lined the walls. There were some books on a rickety bookshelf, some ratty furniture with rips, and the stuffing was coming out of the cushion. There was an opening to a hallway-like way that also had torches on the walls as well. N realized that he was laying on a bed with a thin sheet covered his body. The boy sat up, his long hair fell forward, and he groaned._

"_Audi audino."_

_He turned, seeing the Audino holding out a bowl full of fruit. N's moth salivated, and he grabbed two fruit with his hands, biting into one hungrily. Flavor burst into his mouth, and he moaned delightfully as he chewed what was in his mouth. He swallowed quickly, and took a bite out of the other round fruit._

"_Enjoying your dinner?"_

_N glanced up, noticing the Pokémon that had saved him._

"_Yes, Virizion, thank you," N said as the elegant Pokémon approached his side._

_Virizion smiled down at the human, and then turned to the Audino, muttered something in Pokémon language, and bobbed his head. The Audino nodded, and scurried away. N swallowed his chewed food, and turned up to Virizion._

"_Virizion, where am I?" N inquired._

"_Underground."_

"_Underground?"_

"_Yes. We Pokemon have lived under here for seventy years, building back our races and strength. Drilbur and Excadrill tug tunnels underground to escape the genocide so many years ago. And ever since then, we've lived here, growing food and surviving."_

_N nodded, his face surprised and amazed all at once. "How can you talk?" he asked._

"_I learned."_

"_Why?"_

"_Well, when we attack the Authority, we want to tell him our rage."_

"_My father . . ."_

"_Yes, your father."_

_N swallowed thickly, his eyes lowering to the damp ground. "Okay, you can," he muttered, his eyes flashing to anger. His hands trembled violently, and Virizion glanced at the human, confusion flickered in his eyes._

"_N, what did your father do to you?"_

_N glanced up, his face pained. "It's a long story," he whispered, taking another bite of his food, fighting back the on-coming tears._

_Virizion lowered himself to sit down comfortably on the damp ground, and stared at the human. "No, tell me, human," he whispered._

_N sighed, hanging his head, and he moved to the side, resting his head against Virizion's warm neck. The Pokémon was silent as it breathed softly and gently as the boy descended into quiet sobs._


	11. The Musketeers

**Um, in this chapter, things are going to get a little . . . hot and heavy for Cilan. I managed to keep it still Teen rated, but I warned ya'll.**

* * *

><p>The Musketeers<p>

XI

"_How are the berries?"_

_N chewed on the Oran berry that he had in his hand. He had been in the Underground for few days now, and he was slowly regaining his health. A cracked and chipped glass filled with water sat between his legs, and he was careful not to tip it over._

"_Perfect," N said, his mouth filled with the food he was chewing on. "How do you grow food under here?"_

"_We found old lamps and lights, and then we use electric Pokémon to charge them so that the plants can have light," Virizion stated with a small smile. "Then Water Pokémon watered them to keep them fresh and healthy."_

_N nodded, interested by what the Pokémon had said to him, and then he returned to eating._

"_How are you feeling, son?" Virizion asked gently, shuffling closer to the human on the old mattress. He then sat down, relaxing on the damp ground._

"_Better, so much better," N stated, flashing a grin at the Pokémon. He took his glass, and drank greedily from it. When he was done, he gulped it down, turning to Virizion. "Where did you get the water?" he then asked, holding up the glass._

"_Underground springs."_

"_Oh."_

_N drank it down completely, and placed the cup to the side._

"_N, son," Virizion began, shifting his slender legs, "we want to talk to you."_

"_Um, 'we'?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. "Who is 'we'?"_

"_The rest of the Musketeer Trio, which I am part of," Virizion stated with a certain amount of pride as he erected his head with a slight smile creasing his lips. "We would like to talk about what had happened to you and what Unova has become." He stood up, turning away from the human, staring up at the ground-ceiling above. "What your grandfather did to us was wretched, and what your family continues to do is just as disgusting." He rotated his head to look at N with a determined expression. "With you running away, I hope that you can help us."_

"_H-help you?"_

"_Yes."_

"_How."_

_Virizion approached the boy, a large smirk on his snout. "You know how the system works," he said, stamping his hoof into the ground. "You know how to get into the Castle."_

"_You mean home?"_

"_Yes."_

"_W-what are you going to do," N stammered out, staring at the Pokémon with a certain amount of fear._

_Virizion blinked, staring at the boy. The egotistic and confident smirk fell from his mouth, and he let out a deep, deadpanned sigh. "My boy," the Pokémon began, once again kneeling in front of N, "as you know, the common people are in danger. We want to help, and we have been working for so long and been preparing for so long for this moment to strike. We need your help, so that we can stop what your grandfather and your father has created and continued. You can be the one that stops this."_

_N stared at Virizion, nibbling on his lower lip. "S-so you can help people?" he asked, looking up at the great creature._

"_Yes," he stated firmly. "No offense, kid, but your family did a lot of people a great torment and ruined many lives."_

_N nodded quickly, turning to glare at the opposite wall. "I know what you mean," he muttered, snarling slightly. "I know he ruined my life."_

"_That's right," Virizion stated. "So, would you like to join our discussion?"_

"_Yes."_

* * *

><p><em>Thump. Thump.<em>

Cilan's palm hit his forehead as he whimpered to himself. Pansage watched with a curious face, confused why his Owner was hitting his own head.

"I can't believe I was planning children with her," Cilan rasped out as he continued to hit his head. "I don't want to be with her! Ugh!" His palm grazed into his head, his eyes screwed closed. One eye popped open, staring at his confused Pansage. He groaned, reaching across, patting his Pokémon on the head. "I'm fine."

He pulled back his hand, and touched his stitches. The skin was healing well, and soon he would have to remove the stitches. Cilan sighed, opening the bathroom cabinet mirror, taking a black bottle of peroxide and a cotton ball from a plastic bag. He placed them on the sink side as he closed the mirror door.

"Today's been a strange day, hasn't it?" he asked, cupping the cotton wad over the opening of the peroxide spout, pouring the liquid onto the small fluff.

"Pansage," the little monkey Pokémon agreed.

Cilan leaned forward as he watched his stitches start to fizzle and bubble. It had gotten infected? Probably because he was touching it too much from being self conscious. He watched as the bubbles started to die before he damped it dry with some toilet paper. He stared at the scar, and sighed deeply as he threw the wad of wet toilet paper into the small wastebasket by the sink.

Cress looked like a wreck lately. His eyes were darkened with deep circles and his skin was pale. He was not sure why he looked like that. He still refused to talk about his work, no matter how hard Cilan would push him to tell. And Chili . . . nothing much to do or say with his job. Cilan gave his Pokémon a wobbly smile before reaching out to pick up his prized Pokémon.

"C'mon, time for bed," he said, his hand rubbing at the large ear.

"Pansage," the little monkey stated, nuzzling into his Owner's breast as Cilan opened the door that lead to their bedroom.

Cress and Chili were fast asleep as their monkey-like Pokémon were curled up in their arms. Cilan approached his empty bed as he gently placed his Pansage down on the covers. Pansage let out a loud yawn, curling into the warm sheets and covers. Cilan smiled softly, and his have gently went across the fur of the creature. He drew back his hand, placing it to his side as he returned to the bathroom. He looked at his reflection as his hand ran across his face.

"Boy, you look tired," he told his reflection.

He drew back his hand as he reached for the smooth buttons on the vest. He started to remove it, tossing it to the floor as he kicked off his shoes, tossing them sloppily into a corner. He wondered how Iris was. He removed his socks and pants, throwing them to the tile floor. Cilan stripped himself of his clothing, leaving himself completely in the nude. He glanced up, staring at himself in the mirror. He remembered what Iris had told him about . . . What was it called? Sex. Was that why people had genders? For sex? He wondered what it felt like. By the way Iris had told him, it felt good and pleasurable.

Could he try it by himself?

Could he have sex by himself? Was it called sex if it was by himself? He might as well try. Cilan swallowed thickly as he climbed into the tub. He reached across, turning on the shower with warm water. The liquid hit his skin, and he felt as it rolled down his warm body. He swallowed thickly, and moved his hands along his stomach, feeling his skin quiver underneath his fingertips. His wet hair matted against his face as his slender fingers touched his body. It felt nice as hands went up to his chest, massaging there vigorously. Every nerve tingled and it caused his body to shiver violently.

What he was doing felt . . . _amazing_.

* * *

><p>"<em>What is this?"<em>

_Virizion approached the bedside, dropping a burlap dirtied bag before the boy, who was now out of bed with a faithful Audino at his side._

"_Your clothing; all washed and cleaned," Virizion stated. "So, here you go." His hoof pushed over the bag to the boy who stood in his underwear. "So, you can stand. That's good."_

"_Yes, I feel so much better," N stated, hobbling over to the elegant Pokemon with the Audino by his side, helping him walk. The boy grabbed his white shirt, lifting it up to look properly at it. "So, should I get ready?"_

"_Yes, my boy, Terrakion and Cobalion are dying to meet you," Virizion stated, a small smile on his lips. "When you are ready, I will be waiting outside your room. Alright?"_

"_I understand," N stated, putting down his white shirt to grab his long-sleeved black shirt._

_Virizion nodded his head, and turned to the Audino. "Viri, virizion," he said to the rounded, bipedal Pokémon._

"_Audi, audino," the other Pokémon agreed, following Virizion out of the room. _

_N watched as they left, and then slipped his shit on, smoothing out as it completely fitted against his body. It smelled just like spring water, and the cloth was cool to the touch. N beamed as he reached for his pants, putting them on, and he zipped up the zipper. He wondered what he and the Legendary Pokemon Trio were going to talk about, other than what Virizion had mentioned. Or was that it? If so, N wondered if he could help. And if he could, what would he do? But one thing was for sure: he had to help out as much as he could._

* * *

><p>Cilan suppressed the aching need to moan as his hands roamed and stroked his smooth skin. This felt so very nice. No. It felt so good that he could not describe it with mere words. He reared up his head, mouth opened as he let out a loud groan and warm shower water filled his mouth. He closed his mouth, and sharply swallowed before hanging his head, his jaw open as saliva mixed with water dripped down his chin and face. For some reason, he did not seem to mind that he was probably being very loud. It felt too good not to stop.<p>

That was when he started to think of Iris.

* * *

><p><em>N used his fingers to comb back his hair, trying to look half-way decent. After all, he did not want to look like a complete slob. The human stared at his own reflection in the cracked mirror. He did look healthier than before. Those Oran berries were doing just the trick to make him feel better on the inside and the outside. N's hands moved down the front of his white shirt, and he tugged down, letting out a sigh.<em>

"_Virizion," N called._

"_Yes?"_

"_I'm ready," the human stated, shuffling out of his room to join the Pokémon._

* * *

><p>When it was over, he crumpled into pleasure, his mouth open, and sweat beaded along his neck, face, and forehead. One of his hands were pressed to the tile wall next to him as he tried to level himself—he could barely think, he could barely reason, but what did run through his mind was one thing: how good it all felt. He stood up on wobbly legs, but only fell down again. He decided not to move, and he fell back, his back touching the cold porcelain. He was panting still, mouth slack, and his eyes opened. He was melting into pure bliss, and there was a welcoming of warmth that filled his body. When Cilan regained his ability to think and rationalize, he slowly stood up, leaving the wet tub, but not before cleaning his hips and legs, startled by what had just happened. He left the bathtub, and dried off as he turned to look at his reflection.<p>

What he saw startled him.

His hair and eyes, and some parts of the bathroom, were different. It was one of those visual hallucinations, but it was not moving, not flickering—nothing. It stayed completely still. Cilan reached up, touching his matted hair, and then pulled at the skin around his eyes. He paused, staring at his reflection, and then smiled gently.

He rather liked it.

* * *

><p>"<em>Damn, boy, what a horror story," a large, bulky Pokémon asked. He was the biggest one of the quadruplets as he stomped his fat hooves into the ground in anger. His name was Terrakion.<em>

"_How could a father do that, utterly wretched," Cobalion huffed out, glaring at the boy, but not directly at the boy himself. He stood tall, proud, yet seething in anger. "You poor kid."_

_A horned, Ponyta-like Pokémon stood in the corner, his mane and tail constructed of what appeared to be water. Keldeo was staring at the boy, a frown on his long, Ponyta-like snout. "You're strong, N," he began, "I must say. Bravo for getting away from him."_

_Virizion nudged against the human, offering him a comforting smile. "Good job, my son," he stated. "Now we know what he has done to you, what does he do to the others?"_

_N swallowed thickly, his hands rubbing along his arms. Virizion sat behind N, his front legs sat on either side, trying his best to comfort him as best as he could. The Musketeers were disgusted completely. Even though they had heard what had happened to the boy, they still could not wrap their minds around the horror or it all._

"_He does monstrous things to control the people," he muttered, reaching up to grab his long mane. "He is the Authority, as you all know, and he takes his title very seriously. He hates not being in control, something he has learned from his father—my grandfather. The idea was to control everything and everyone. First, it was to create something that could harm the people. It was something simple—slipping dangerous drugs into the water, killing people slowly, but soon people began to build immunity to it._

"_That won't work. So, scientists worked around the hour, being paid much to create a killer disease. After a few months, they created it: Killer 893. It was created not to kill Pokémon, only humans. Soon, they released it amongst the people. Scores got sick and died in months. Suddenly, in a mist of this turmoil, a miracle drug is created, and my grandfather—a young, devious politician—announced that he had the antidote to save people. It worked—and landslide victory. My grandfather is put into office._

"_Ever since then, things started to happen. Books were taken and burned, love and true happiness was destroyed and restored with a false sense of happiness—a giant façade to make people feel safe and happy; history started to be altered, people started to go missing if they were homosexual, traditions and culture vanished, the Pokémon Purge began—killing Pokémon in the wild and taking them from their homes. Killing them and making them into food and that still continues today, but humans had always eaten Pokémon, but eating people friend and family Pokémon disgusts me. But when all—so we thought—the Pokémon were killed, my grandfather saw that it was a bad move. Even though we still eat Pokémon, we still have a meat-shortage. Solution: humans. Those who did not obey . . . become food. That used to happen a lot in my grandfather's day—people who did not listen started to disappear one by one before people learned how to shut up._

"_Soon, people started go along, forgetting about things that went on the past with each passing generation. Those who try to question the Authority become dinner for people. But don't blame the common People; they have no idea what they are eating. Its Pokémon and human grounded together. I just want to wretch, but I cannot . . . I don't want this to happen anymore. Too many people have been hurt by this—my family ruined Unova, and I want to do something."_

_The Musketeers stared at the boy, disgusted, revolting, and many other adjectives that could be used to describe how they felt. Virizion looked at the boy, nuzzling him gently. Personally, this was the most affection that N had ever had. N pushed against the Pokemon, his arms wrapping around the slender neck of the creature. Cobalion stood there, a snarl on his face as he turned away, staring up at the ceiling on the Underground. Keldeo approached his mentor, staring up at him._

"_Sir?" he called._

_Cobalion was silent, and then he turned to the younger Pokemon, a thunderous stare on his face as his teeth shown. "Oh, we're going to kill that bastard," he snarled, eyes determined. "Oh, I will bring hell upon him."_


	12. Close

**Yay, update.**

* * *

><p>Close<p>

XII

_Iris sat on the floor, her untamed hair wild and crazy as it covered her body and floor under her. Her hands gripped her shoulders as she trembled, trying to hold back the oncoming tears. She felt so horrible, scared, and so unsure. Iris bit her lower lip, and screwed her eyes shut, forcing the tears to disappear from existence. She didn't want to grow up, she didn't want her Axew to be taken from her, and she wanted to get away from Unova as fast as she could._

"_I'm so scared," she breathed, her eyes opened as tears rolled down her face._

_Footsteps in the distance echoed loudly and it filled her ears. Iris opened her tear-filled eyes, and looked at a pair of pointed shoes. The shoes then shifted, and then knees were shown. A hand came across, touching her wet cheek, drying her tears with a wipe of a thumb. She smiled up at the person, and Iris reached up, grabbing the hand's wrist tightly._

"_Cilan," she breathed tenderly._

_He smiled down at her, and her hand cupped his gently._

"_Cilan," she repeated, shuffling closer to him. "I feel—I'm afraid."_

_He hushed her, his voice smooth like cooled melted chocolate. "It'll be okay," the young adult whispered. "Everything will be okay in the end."_

"_H-how do you know?"_

"_Do you trust me?"_

_Iris paused, looking up at him, her eyes wide and wetted with salty tears. He continued to look down at her, his expression soft like the finest wool. With her free hand, she reached up, touching the side of his face, cupping it like he was doing with her. His silky skin . . . She loved the way it felt against her hand._

"_Yes, I do trust you," she breathed, feeling safe and secure the moment she said that._

_Cilan beamed, and pulled her close, resting his forehead against hers. "Just stay with me," he whispered, his breath causing her wispy bangs to move. "No matter how bad things will get, just stay by me."_

"_What do you mean by 'bad things,' Cilan?" Iris whispered, her large eyes looking up into his deep orbs._

_He smiled, but it was not like his other smiles—it was a sad one, and his eyes reflected that said sadness. But there was an air of comfort about the smile that stretched across his thin lips. "You will know soon, Iris," he stated in a calm tone. "You will understand in time, you just have to be strong. Promise me that, Iris. Promise me that you will be strong."_

_The long-haired female looked up at him; fear still stretched across her face, but she nodded her head firmly. "I promise," she whispered, dark eyes searching his calm, pale face._

_He smiled again, and he pulled her into a warm embrace. Iris welcomingly accepted it as her arms reached around to hug him in return. His hand rubbed soothingly against the centre of her back._

"_Good, just stay strong."_

"_I will. I promise."_

"_And Iris; I'll always be with you, even after I'm not there physically all the time."_

"_What? What do you mean by that?"_

"_You will see in time. You will see in time."_

_"Y-you won't be with me?"_

_"I **will** be with you. Always."_

_He pulled back, his face gentle and angelic as he looked down at her. Her facial feature was completely perplexed as he reached up to comb back a stray lock. His hands were warm to the touch, and it soothed Iris' rattled state. She closed her eyes, feeling his slender fingers brush tenderly over her soft skin. Another hand reached over, tangling in her thick, long hair, causing her breath to hitch._

_"I don't understand, Cilan," she whispered, looking up at him with wide, confused eyes._

"_You will see in time, my Iris," Cilan repeated as he started to vanish. "You will see in time."_

_Iris flinched, and reached out, watching as Cilan vanished like mist in the sun's rays._

"_Cilan! What do you mean?" she called, quickly standing up, glancing around the emptiness where she was at. "Cilan! Cilan!"_

_Nothing. _

_"Cilan! What are you talking about?"_

_Absolutely nothing._

_"Cilan!"_

* * *

><p>Iris' eyes popped open.<p>

She blinked, staring up at the dark ceiling, and she let out an exasperated sigh. It was another one of those dreams again. She would frequently dream of him—her friend Cilan. She was not sure why she would. Iris turned to her side, staring at her Axew, who was laying on his back, jaw opened, and snored as loudly as White and Bianca did. The long-haired female moved closer to her beloved Pokemon, and hung her arms loosely around his tiny body. She let out a deep sigh.

She had those "Cilan dreams" again. They were becoming more and more frequent with time. And they were always the same: him telling her things were going to be alright (was something going to happen?) and that he was going to be with her (wasn't he always?) and that she had to be strong. It was strange, but she welcomed each dream, and sometimes wished that it was the real flesh and blood Cilan would do that (why did she want that? He was her friend). Iris sighed as she tried to fall back asleep.

* * *

><p><em>The Underground was a catacomb—a maze that continued on for what seemed like forever. N felt out of place in such a realm—there were no humans in sight; only Pokémon as far as the eye could see. They would glance at him from time to time, curious as to why a human was with them. However, N would sense that, and flash them a nervous smile and a wave. When Virizion would explain to the Pokemon as to why he was living with them, they would nod and understand.<em>

"_So, N," Virizion began as he stood outside of the boy's underground room, "is there anything that you need or want?"_

_N took a seat on his bed, and shook his head. "No, but thank you," the long-haired man stated, reaching up to brush back his tangled locks. "I think I am fine."_

_Virizion nodded. "Right, but remember: if there is anything that you need, you can always tell Ma'le," he stated, digging his hoof into the ground._

"_Ma'le?"_

"_The Audino that's taking care of you."_

"_Oh, right. Well, thank you."_

"_Of course."_

_There was a moment of silence, and when Virizion started to leave, N called: "Wait!"_

_The Legendary Pokémon returned to the room, staring at the boy. "Yes?" he called._

"_You do realize that my father's probably livid."_

"_Yes, I'd imagine."_

"_When we do fight, be careful."_

"_Of course; sleep well, N."_

"_Thank you."_

* * *

><p>"What's with the dopey look on your face?" Iris stated, curling up her upper lip, staring at her friend like he was crazy.<p>

He turned to her, a stupid smile spread across his face. Cilan shook his head, and waved down his hand, which was covered with white bubbles. "I'm just having a good day, that's all," he said, moving his hand back into the soapy water, grinning from ear to ear.

Iris looked right at him, and sighed, shaking her head. "You're so weird," she said as she bumped hips with him. "But I like you."

Cilan beamed at her, and then looked to his Pansage and Axew. His hallucinations had not changed—they had continued; unmoving and still. Some parts of Pansage was shown that way—on his lower stomach, legs, tail, on his tuft of foliage, and his head, along with the insides of his ears. He turned to Iris, still beaming.

"How about you?" he asked, shuffling closer to her as he dried his hands. He handed to damp towel to her.

She sighed, taking the towel and dried her wet hands. "Well, it could be better," she whispered, carelessly throwing the towel into the basket next to the sink.

He looked at her, a little confused as he cocked his head to the right, continuing to stare directly at her. "What do you mean?" he asked with some tenderness in his voice.

Iris shook her head, turning to lean against the sink. "It's nothing," she said, waving down her hand. She didn't want to tell her only friend that she had multiple dreams of him comforting her and such. "Just crazy things . . . that's all."

He gazed at her, his face in some disbelief. However, he just nodded, accepting her vague explanation. "Alright," he said, reaching across to gingerly take Pansage into his arms. "But, remember, you can always talk to me."

Iris stared at him, her lips pressed tightly together, and she exhaled deeply through her nose. She took her Axew into her arms, holding him close to her flat breast. She was petrified by her companion's reaction if she was going to tell him the truth. She turned away, her cheeks warm, and then she nibbled on her lower lip.

"W-well . . ."

"Yes?"

She couldn't tell him. Not yet.

"Well, I heard that the higher-ups picked out my mate."

Cilan twitched, and his breathing hitched. "O-oh," he whispered, his Pansage crawling up onto his shoulder. "I see."

"Yeah . . ."

"Are you scared?"

"Just a little," Iris admitted. She was not completely lying to him. She had received the news just last night that her mate had been picked out for her, and that she would see him for the first time today. She was a little scared. "I wonder who it would be."

"Don't worry, you'll be fine," Cilan said in a comforting tone as he clasped his hand on her shoulder warmly. "It'll be okay."

* * *

><p>"<em>You still haven't found him?" the Authority roared.<em>

_The others shivered, even the Shadow Traid were twitching, staring up at the thunderous face on the screen. One man shook his head, trying to keep calm and leveled. "Um, no, Sir," he said, reaching up to slick back his hair, which really did not need to be slicked back by his palm. "But we're still working on it."_

"_Well, work faster! My son, the future heir, as run away! I could call for help!"_

"_But, there's no way that he could reach the other regions. He would not be able to survive the trip."_

"_Even so—if the other region's police find his body, they will come here, and we don't want that to happen. Right?"_

"_Y-yes, Sir."_

"_So, you better hurry. My patience is draining."_

"_Yes, Sir."_

* * *

><p>Iris sighed deeply, shaking her head. "I do hope you're right," she said. "But then again, you are probably right."<p>

Cilan smiled arrogantly. "Why, thank you," he said, closing his eyes and a smirk formed on his lips. His smirk fell from his lips, and he looked at her with a gentle expression. "Trust me, okay?"

Iris looked up at him as slender smile formed its way on her face. "I do trust you," she said.

That made Cilan's heart flutter. His cheeks warmed up, and he rubbed at the back of his head. "Thank you, Iris," he said with a soft voice. "That means a lot to me."

"Well, it's the truth."

Cilan swallowed, staring at her fondly. His expression then changed as he frowned, staring at the side. He wanted to tell her what had happened in the shower last night, but he did not know how she would react to it. And, quite frankly, he was too afraid to tell her everything that _did_ happen last night. However, it felt so good, and he wanted to tell her his experience.

"Iris," he called, his hands shifting into his pockets.

"Yeah, Cilan?"

"Well, there's something I wish to tell you."

"Okay, what is it?"

Cilan swallowed sharply, and then he loudly cleared his throat. His Pansage stared at his Owner with confusion as his lithe tail flicked from side to side. "W-well, remember when we were on the roof—"

"Iris!"

Both friends turned, seeing Juniper stand with a uniformed man. It was a man dressed in the same fashion of a person that had come to pick up Cilan not too long ago. Iris rotated around, fully looking at the adults.

"Yes?" she called, staring at the uniformed male.

"I'm here to pick you up," the uniformed male stated, reaching up to touch the rim of his fedora. "Come on, now."

Iris frowned sourly, but then turned to Cilan, flashing him a kind smile. "Well, I'll see you later," she said, reaching out to playfully punch his tender arm.

Cilan returned her smile, and bobbed his head. "Right, I'll see you," he said in a low tone. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

Axew clung to his Owner's shoulder, his tiny claw waving at Cilan and his Pansage, and the monkey-like Pokémon returned it as did his Owner. The hat-bearing man stared directly at Cilan, a scowl on his face, and it caused the young adult to shiver in his shoes. Cilan shifted, feeling uneasy under the man's stare, but he calmed when Iris turned to him again, and mouthed something:

_The roof?_

Cilan beamed, and nodded.

_The roof._


	13. Trouble with a kiss?

**Might I say that this is almost over. I'm happy that you all have enjoyed this as much as I. After I finish writing this, I do plan to write another Wishfulshipping fic that focuses on older Cilan and Iris' married life, and other drama/romance fic for Orangeshipping (Tracey/Misty). I do hope you enjoy the next five or so chapters of this story.**

* * *

><p>Trouble with a kiss?<p>

XIII

"_Zarchin, what would you like to do?" Cobalion asked, staring at the Zorak with a certain air of gentle authority._

_The large fox-werewolf Pokemon stepped forward, body tall erect as it reached back, pushing aside its large ponytail. "Well, Sir, these children are in obvious danger," he said. "I wish to save them, just as we saved the others from the clutches of the Authority."_

"_You do realize that is a risky chance."_

"_They have all been risky, and my team and I have never failed," Zarchin stated firmly. "Remember Lenora and Hawes Miazaki? Saved and sent to Hoenn. Emmet and Ingo Dragger? Saved and sent to Kanto. And, of course, there are others that I cannot remember. I know I can save these children. However, the Cilan boy has brothers."_

"_Brothers?" echoed Terrakion, shifting his heavy feet about._

"_Yes."_

"_And the Iris girl?"_

"_She wasn't . . . 'born' per say in Straition, but another Community. I have no idea about her family, however. She's probably forgotten about them."_

_Keldeo cocked his head to the side, and turned to the others, waiting for what they were going to say. "Well," the unicorn Pokemon whispered. "Should we let him save them?"_

_Cobalion looked to Virizion, who nodded, and then he turned to Terrkion, who also nodded his head. The leader then sighed deeply as he took advanced a step. "Now, go help them," he said._

_Zarchin grinned._

* * *

><p>"So, who's the lucky guy?"<p>

"Oh, shut up," Iris muttered, firmly punching Cilan on the arm. She pulled her legs to her chest as she looked up to the night sky.

He rubbed at his tender arm, blinking. Cilan moved his head forward, trying to look at her face. "So, who is it?" he egged on, staring at her with a grin.

"Black."

"Black?"

"Yep, Black," she murmured, resting her chin on her knees. "I'm not too thrilled."

Cilan frowned, staring at her gently and with compassion. "Oh, just give it some time, I think you'll grow to like him."

"Just like you'll like Burgundy," Iris said with a hint of anger and mockery.

Cilan twitched as his upper lip twitched and his eyes widened. He was completely taken aback, and his face showed it on its many levels. Iris stiffened, and then sighed deeply, reaching up to rub at her temples.

"I'm sorry," the long-haired female sighed, turning away from him. "I'm just in a bad mood."

"I-it's okay."

"No, no its not. I'm sorry."

Cilan glanced up at her, smiling fondly at her. "I forgive you," he stated. The boy shifted, craning his head to look to the sky. "My brother's been acting odd."

"Which brother?"

"Cress. He's been acting odd."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, his skin has paled considerably, and his eyes are darkened. I'm worried for him. And when I try to talk to him, he just won't respond to me like he used to."

Iris combed back her long hair, staring at the young boy with a grimaced face. "I'm sorry," Iris whispered before a deep yawn passed by her lips. "Oh, sorry," she stated with a tired, sheepish smile formed on her lips. "I'm rather sleepy."

Cilan blinked as he inched closer to her. "D-do you want to get to bed?" he asked tenderly, staring at her with a sweet expression.

She turned to look up at him, a tired smile on her face. "But we do this every night," she whispered. "I—I don't want to ruin it just because I'm tired."

"But you're obviously tired."

"But—"

"It's okay, you can go to bed."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Cilan said with a firm tone. "Your sleep is more important. If you want to sleep, then go to bed. We can always do this tomorrow."

Iris then nodded her head, staring at him with a fond expression. "Thank you, Cilan, this means a lot to me," she said as she stood up, brushing off the tiny dirt grains that were sticking to her pajamas.

He then stood up as well, still smiling at her. "Of course," he said. "You just get some sleep, alright?"

"Alright. Goodnight, Cilan."

"Goodnight, Iris."

She nodded her head, and retreated back to her room. He watched her go with certain sadness on his face. He really wanted to talk to her, but if she wanted to sleep, then she would get sleep. Cilan reached up, combing back his hair with his hand as he moved back to his own room with slow strides so he could enjoy the night air upon his warm body. He felt a sudden urge to get in the shower, but he ignored it as a ghost of a yawn passed by his lips.

Maybe tomorrow night.

* * *

><p>"<em>It's been a month—a whole damn month—and you did not find anything? You have not found him yet?" the Authority yelled at the top of his lungs, glaring hatefully at the people at the other end of the screen, who were cringing.<em>

"_We're still looking, Sir," said one of the masked Shadow Traid, saving the hide of the other men who did not speak. "We found some trash in the Wastelands, and we're letting out some Pokémon to track him."_

"_Trash?"_

"_Like food wrappers and such."_

"_What about footsteps?"_

"_The Wastelands have hard ground. There would be no footprints."_

_The Authority nodded his head, his face sullen and dark. "Right, well, find him," he snapped, his upper lip curling up into a scowl. "Do not fail me again."_

"_Yes, Sir," the men around the half-shaped table said in unison as the large monitor flickered off quickly, replacing the Authority's leathered face with a black screen._

_And in the Authority's office, he grumbled loudly as he reached up to rub at his temples, hoping that the throbbing sensation within his head would stop. "I'm surrounded by morons," he hissed, standing up from his chair and approached the window, looking out in the direction of the Community in the distance and at the Wastelands._

_Why would N go to the Wastelands? Was he trying to escape Unova? But what would he do—there was nothing that could help him._

"_Foolish boy . . ." he grumbled, his eyebrows knitted tightly together. "What do you plan to do?"_

_What could he do? He would probably die out there—and that meant no heir._

_And that couldn't happen._

* * *

><p>Today, for all workers, was a special break. And with that, Cilan found himself sleeping in. However, he was rudely awoken by a pair of fat paws.<p>

"Pansage pan."

A single eye slowly opened as he stared at his bright and cheery at his Owner. Cilan turned onto his back, arms outstretched as he yawned loudly. "Good morning, Pansage," he said, pulling his dear Pokémon to his chest. "How are you this fine morning?"

"Pansage!" the Pokémon cried happily, nuzzling his Owner warmly.

Cilan sat up, his Pokémon cradled in his arms like a mother would hold her child. The human boy yawned again; louder and longer than the first one as his free hand went up to scratch the back of his head. Today was a free day, and Cilan grinned widely from ear to ear.

"Alright," he breathed, placing his Pokémon gently down on the sheets. "No work today."

"Pansage!"

Cilan grinned as he poked the tip of his Pokémon's nose fondly. "What should we do today?" he asked, shifting from under the covers. "Do you want to go to the park? What to join Iris if she's open today?"

"Pansage!" the Pokémon stated loudly, throwing his huge paws into the air.

Cilan laughed, reaching over to rub at the top of his Pansage's thick foliage. "Okay, then it's a date," he said with a large smile.

He yawned again, erecting his body to stretch out his aching limbs. Pansage jumped up onto his Owner's shoulder as Cilan threw his legs from under the sheets. The feet touched the floor, and he let out another yawn.

"Boy, I'm tired," he whispered, standing up from his bed.

"Pansage," the Pokémon whispered.

Cilan reached up with his slender hand as he stroked the gentle Pansage. He approached his dresser drawer, and opened it to grab some clothing to wear for today. He heard the loud snoring from his brothers, and he was carefully silent as he dressed himself. Cilan threw his bunched clothing onto the bed. And, of course, he readied himself to look his best. He stared at the now small cut along his head as he stood in the bathroom, body partly rested against the sink, and he gently touched the cut. He turned to his Pokémon, his fingertips still touching the scar.

"Do you think I should remove the stitching?"

"Pansage pan."

Cilan turned back to his reflection in the mirror, still rubbing at the scar. "Yeah, I thought so," he said in a low tone. He looked at his hair and eyes, still surprised by what his hair and eyes had become, along with his Pansage. He hummed in his throat, and he pulled back, staring at his slender features and thin body. His hand ran down his chest, smoothing out his black vest, and exhaled deeply. "Well, let's go," Cilan called to his Pansage, offering his arm out to him.

Pansage jumped onto the arm, crawling onto his Owner's shoulder, resting himself there. "Pansage," the Pokémon said in a low tone, his tail dripped to the side.

Cilan beamed up at his Pokemon as he left the bathroom. He paused, deciding to leave his brother's a small note about where he would go, and with that he left.

* * *

><p><em>Tink. Tink. Tink.<em>

Cilan tossed tiny stones into the second floor window. He waited for a moment before he tossed another one into the glass.

_Tink_.

"Iris!" he called, tossing another stone to the glass.

_Tink_.

"Iris!"

The window opened upward, and a female with short-bobbed hair that framed her face popped out, staring down at the boy. "What?" she called. "Who are you?"

"My name is Cilan," he answered, placing a hand to his chest as he dropped his other stones. "Is Iris there? I would like to talk to her."

"Iris isn't here," the female called. "She left?"

"Left?" Cilan said, his face completely abashed as his eyes narrowed. "Where to?"

"She said that she had to pick up some food for dinner."

That reminded Cilan that he and Pansage forgot to eat, and his stomach grumbled on cue. His hand touched his clothed belly, and he turned up to look at her.

"So, she went to the market?"

"That's right."

"Well, thank you," Cilan said. "And sorry for tossing rocks at your window."

The young adult female rubbed at her eye. "Yeah, well, you woke me up," she called, her eyes narrowed at him.

"Oh, sorry," Cilan said in a sheepish tone. "Well, sleep well."

"Right."

And with that, she closed the window. He turned on his heel, and skittered away, hoping to find her at the common marketplace. With a bounce in his step, he hurried over there, not too surprised to see that it was packed with young adults, adults, children and their Pokémon. After all, this was a no work day, so it made sense that they would shop. The fresh fruits, berries, and vegetables were sitting in crates, some covered by cloth tarps, and some were not so that they could soak up the sun. People with baskets hung at their arms moved about, searching for the best buy, and Cilan maneuvered around them, searching for his dear friend.

"Iris!" he called over the yelling of people making profits and buying items.

"Pan pansage pan!" the monkey Pokémon called, searching for Axew. He glanced around, and then moved to Cilan's left shoulder, cupping his hand over his mouth. "Pan pansage pan!"

Cilan slid by, his arms pressed close to his person as he moved. He would once and a while pause as children would zip by him, laughing gaily as they chased each other or their Pokémon companions. He would smile as he watched them run off, and then he would return to his searching.

"Iris! Iris!"

"Pan pansage pan pan!"

Cilan licked his dry, chapped lips. He reached up to scratch his dear Pansage. "Don't worry, we'll find her," he stated, beaming with kind sweetness.

"Pan . . ." the Pokémon stated, his tail flicking from side to side.

The young adult chuckled as he started to move through the thick crowd.

"Boy, a lot of people today," he whispered under his breath.

"Pan . . ."

He moved along, wondering where she had gone. But when he caught the sight of her long hair, her faithful Axew poking his head out from her thick mane; and he beamed. He approached her side, hands behind his back. Her eyes darted up; staring at the man that magically appeared by her side.

"Cilan?" she asked, the basket in her hands swayed. "Where did you come from?"

"Well, I wanted to ask you a question, so some girl with short hair told me that you went to the market," Cilan stated, a sneaky smile on his lips.

"So, you've come to stalk me now, huh?" she asked, reaching for an apple with a smirk.

Axew chuckled from his seat in her thick hair, his tiny claws covering his snout. Cilan coughed, turning on his heel to look fully at her. "Well, I wanted to ask you a question," he stated.

"Okay, what is it?"

He watched as she filled the basket with a verity of fruits. "Well, you're free, right?" Cilan inquired, running a hand through his soft hair.

"Yeah. And?"

"Well, I wanted to spend the day with you."

Iris turned to look at him, an expression of surprise spread across her face. "What about Burgundy? Aren't you supposed to spend a day like this with your wife?" she asked, arching an eyebrow to him.

"Oh, right," Cilan said in an exasperated way. He then turned to her, smiling. "She's just my wife." He waved down his hand at her. "You're my friend. You're more important."

Iris couldn't help to chuckle at her friend and what he said. "You're crazy," she said. "You could get in trouble."

"Oh, yeah . . . I forgot about that." A pause, and then a laugh. "You're my friend, and that's more important."

Iris was silent for a moment, and then she slowly looked up to him. "But, Cilan, are you sure?" she asked, her voice low.

"Completely sure."

Her mouth was pressed together, quiet and unsure. But she then beamed, linking arms with her best friend. "Man, Cilan, you're the greatest!" she laughed.

"I know."

"You're my best friend."

"You are too."

* * *

><p>Iris had quickly dropped the food off, and the duo moved along together, spending the day doing a verity of things: going out for lunch, walking around the city, talking and laughing at each other's stories. And when day light started to dissipate into dusk, however, the sun still sat in the sky. Iris and Cilan was spending time at the basketball courts, the boy sitting on the floor, resting his back against the bar as he watched Iris make baskets with a stray ball, making each shoot perfectly. The ball bounced back into her hands as she made another shoot. Axew and Pansage sat in Cilan's lap as he stroked them fondly as he watched his friend play basketball by herself.<p>

"You're quite good," Cilan said as Axew nudged against his hand.

Iris rushed off to retrieve the ball that bounced away, and the moment she snatched it up, she looked up at him, pushing aside a stray bang. "Thank you," she called, a small smile on her lips. Iris fondled the ball for a moment before calling: "Would you like to try?"

"Um, I'm not sure how. I was never good at sports," Cilan said, a sheepish look on his face.

"I'll show you," Iris stated with a grin. "C'mon. It's not that hard."

Cilan looked at her, and then nodded his head. "Okay, alright," he said, gingerly placing Axew and Pansage to the side, and both snuggled together, watching their Owners with curious eyes. The young man lightly jogged to his friend's side.

"Okay, watch me," Iris said, holding the ball in her hands. "Stand erect, jump up slightly, and throw the ball with a flick of the wrist." Iris did just that, and the ball flew, and with a _swish_, the ball rolled over to her feet. "See that?" she asked as she grabbed it from the ground. "Now you try." The dark-skinned girl handed the ball to him.

He took it into his hands, rolling it around a bit before assuming the position, and when he threw the ball, he completely missed the basket as it fell like a brick and rolled over to their Pokémon. Iris chuckled, shaking her head.

"No, no, put more unft into it."

"Unft?"

"Yes, _unft_," Iris said, taking the position she had told him, and flicked her wrist. "Give it more power."

Pansage rolled the ball back over to the two humans, and Cilan deftly picked it up, patting the ball with his palm and he lightly snorted. _Unft_, he repeated in his head, and he tried just that. However, the ball smashed into the backboard, and bounced away from the duo in slow, steady bounces. Iris sighed, chasing after the ball that had rolled six or seven feet from them.

"Too much unft," Iris called, rushing over to her friend. "One more time."

She handed him the ball, and he tried again, and nearly made it in, but it bounced off the rim of the basket. The large ball rolled over to their feet, and Iris grabbed it, holding it to her chest. "You're almost there," she said, and she tossed the ball, making a perfect basket. She laughed, throwing her hands up into the air. "Yeah! What up, white boy?"

Cilan laughed, his hand at his stomach as the ball rolled over to his nice pointed shoes. "Oh, yeah," he playfully mocked, holding the ball in his slender hands. "Watch me work!" The young man jumped, throwing the ball, and he cried out happily as it made its way through the hoop. "Oh! Yeah! I got it! What up, black girl?" he called, slapping his hand to his chest in a playful manner.

Iris laughed, her hands gripping her knees as she bent over, finding herself winded and unable to breath in a normal way. Cilan joined her in the mirth, scooping up the ball, cradling it like a baby. She sat on the ground, still laughing, her hands gripping her stomach. He joined her, ball held in his lap as their laughter died in slowly in their throats. They stared at each other; breathes becoming more even as they inched closer to each other.

"Hey, Iris," he whispered, swallowing sharply.

"Yeah?" she said in a low tone, staring up into his bright eyes.

"Remember those things in that book you read?"

"Which things?"

"When you put two mouths together," Cilan explained.

"A kiss?" Iris answered, baffled that he would ask that.

"Yes."

"M-may we try it?" Cilan said in a low tone, inching closer to her. "I've been curious about it ever since you told me."

"Y-you want a kiss?"

"Yes."

"Okay," Iris said, a small smile on her lips. "What about the spit?"

"I—I don't care. Kiss me."

"Are you sure?"

"I said yes, woman! Kiss me!"

Iris felt her cheeks become hot as she inched closer to her best friend. Cilan moved forward, remembering what the man did in the book, and he closed his eyes, waiting there. And then Iris moved up, brushing her lips against his, unsure and completely confused—scared even. However, she had grown to like the feel of his lips against her sensitive ones. For a few moments they stayed there, shyly moving their lips across the other before they pulled away, staring at each other with a dazzled expression on both of their faces. They looked at each other before leaning into another kiss, but this time, Cilan and Iris' mouth opened as their tongues touched. They shivered, but they quickly succumbed to the pleasure it brought, and they continued—rubbing their tongues along each other, the roof of their mouths, and then rubbing gently at the interior walls on their cheeks. Cilan gripped the basketball tightly, fearful of something he did not understand, and holding the ball was the only thing that he could cling to. When they pulled apart, staring at each other, calm and gentle looking.

"Iris . . ." Cilan whispered, staring at her with half-closed eyes.

"Yeah, Cilan?" she called back, looking back at him.

"That was nice," he said back, his tone low. There was a small smile upon his lips. "I really liked it."

"Really?"

"Oh, yes," Cilan answered, nodding his head quickly. "Despite the fact that we swap spit." He then laughed loudly, rearing back his head as he did so.

Iris joined him, leaning forward, placing her head against his chest. "Yeah, it was nice," she stated, turning her head up to look at his face. "It was quite amazing . . . I can't describe it." Her hands reached up, grabbing his shoulders. "So, other people do this in other regions . . .?"

"I suppose so."

"Why can't we here?"

"I don't know."

"Well, I don't know either," Iris whispered, a tiny smile creased her thin lips. "Who cares, I guess. Just kiss me again."

Cilan grinned, leaning forward, pressing his to hers again. After they parted, they looked at each other, cool smiles upon their features as they gazed into each other's eyes. They felt warmth in their cheeks, their chests, and their bodies.

"We should go," Iris said, tearing her gaze from his. "It's getting late."

Cilan turned up to the sky, staring as the sun started to disappear behind the hills. "Oh, you're right," he stated, dropping the ball as it rolled slowly away from the two friends. He offered her his hand. "Come, let's go."

She smiled up at him, and took his offered hand into hers. "Okay," she said in a low tone, standing up with her friend's help.

Both separated hands, and they grabbed their Pokémon as they started their walk home, talking and chatting amongst each other.

* * *

><p>"We should do that more often."<p>

"You think?" Cilan asked, peering down at her with a curious expression.

"Oh, yeah, it was fun," Iris said with a twinkle in her eyes as a smirk formed on her face. "Do friends do that in other regions," she stated in a low tone, so that no one would hear.

"I'm not sure."

They walked side by side, their Pokémon by their sides loyally.

"Well, I liked it," Cilan stated with a grin. "You're right; we _should_ do it more often."

"Agreed!" Iris laughed, pushing against him.

Just then, both friends were stopped by a tall uniformed man, who was glaring down at them, his hands tightly hid behind his back as he stood there, menacingly. Cilan froze, reaching out to grab Iris' arm as he yanked her back. From behind the man came Burgundy and Black, who were completely nonchalant about the tall thunderous man by their side.

The uniformed man nodded curtly. "Good evening," he grumbled, eyeing them both.

Cilan swallowed sharply, reaching up to comb back his hair. "Good evening, Sir," he said.

Iris stood there like a fierce statue, her look as hateful as it had always been when she saw any of these uniformed men and women. The man clicked his heels, and moved, his hand outstretched by his side. "Please, this way," he stated. "We need to talk."

One word went through both friends' head: _shit_.


	14. Control

Control

XIV

Iris drummed her fingers angrily on the metal desk as she glared icy daggers at Black, who was wincing under her stare.

"Don't blame me," Black said, placing his hand to his chest, quickly defending himself.

"Too late; I blame you," Iris snarled, her Axew clinging to her shoulder, who was also staring at his Owner's husband. She then looked to the female with the curly, shoulder-length hair. "I blame you too."

"We didn't do anything," Burgundy responded, her Deerling nuzzling at her side, her eyes wide. "Honest."

"Weird, why don't I believe you?" Iris snapped.

Cilan hushed her, reaching over to pat her hand. "Iris, Iris," he scolded gently. "Don't blame them. They didn't know."

Darkened eyes turned to her best friend, and then she visibly relaxed. However, there were still signs that she was obviously peeved. Cilan knitted his brows, and nibbled his lower lip, skeptical that she had taken his advice. Her murky eyes were still on them, threatening them silently as her finger nails lightly scratched her thumb's skin. Both Black and Burgundy exchanged worried glances before slumping in their chairs. Black's Snivy nuzzled into his lap, looking away from Iris.

To the right, the door opened, and a uniformed woman stepped in. Her eyes were dark, her face slender, her body a perfect hourglass, but she looked cruel and cold—like a block of ice. She glanced between all four of them before taking her seat at the head of the table. She arched her fingers, dark eyes glancing between them before she spoke:

"Well, as you four know, these types of days are special. And why are they special? Well, they are special because for one, you don't have to work. And two, they are to spend with your _spouses_. Not with your _friends_," she said, glaring at Iris and Cilan, and the long-haired female shot a glare right back.

"Well, what's wrong with spending time with friends?" Iris said, a forceful mock-happy grin on her lips as she glared icily at the older woman.

The other woman looked back to Iris, her upper lip twitching. "Always talking back, aren't you, Iris?" she said with a smirk.

"It's one of my talents."

Cilan covered her hand with his own hand, and squeezed it gently. The uniformed woman glanced at the gesture, and continued to eye their hands before Cilan pulled away, feeling slightly uncomfortable by her piercing stare. Iris frowned, wanting to feel his hand on hers longer. She wasn't sure why, however. The older woman crossed her legs, took a pen from her breast pocket, and began to scribble something on her notepad.

"This will never happen again, am I correct?" she asked sharply, glancing up at Cilan and Iris.

"Yes, ma'am," Cilan muttered, turning away in shame.

Iris said nothing. Burgundy swallowed thickly, and reached up to play with a strand of hair. Black continued to stare at his wife, confused why she wasn't answering. Cilan nudged Iris with his elbow, and looked right at her.

"Yes, ma'am," Iris grumbled.

"And, while I'm at it, you are forbidden to see each other unless its work or you're being supervised," she said.

Cilan and Iris' heart skipped a beat.

"You can't do that!" Iris shouted, slamming her hands on the desk.

"Actually I can and I did," she said, clicking her pen again. "We've been looking at all the camera footage, and you've been spending way too much time together, so we're going to cut that. If we see you two together without our permission, you'll be punished."

"We're friends! You can't do that!"

"Sit down, Iris Rockwell," the woman snarled. "You can't afford a third strike, little missy."

Iris' nails dug into the metal, making loud scratching sounds. Cilan shifted uncomfortably, and he shook his head, begging Iris with his eyes to not make a big scene. She slowly took her seat, still glaring at the older female. The uniformed woman clapped her hands, grinning cheekily.

"Well, things went well," she said, quickly standing up. "You all have a nice day." The woman turned on her heels, and left the room.

There was a long awkward silence between the four before Black awkwardly cleared his throat. "I think we should go now," he whispered, reaching over to tap Iris' hand. "C'mon, let's go."

She glared at him, and he quickly drew his hand back. "Okay, okay," he said, reaching to pick his Snivy up, and placed her on his shoulder.

Burgundy stood up, and circled around to Cilan, who had a stony face. Pansage looked up at him, saddened that his Owner was not cheerful like he normally was.

"Um, we should go," she whispered, reaching up to touch his shoulder.

He did not reply.

"Cilan?"

"Fine, let's go," he snapped, yanking his shoulder from her touch, grabbed Pansage, held him close, and stood up from his chair, causing it to tip over. Iris was surprised by his actions; she had never seen Cilan act like this. He was always a gentleman . . . He looked to Iris, pain in his eyes, he nodded his head, and he left the room in a hurry.

"Um," Burgundy breathed before following her husband. She paused at the doorframe, nodded her head at the two still sitting, and scurried away; her Deerling following after her.

Iris was silent, and then she stood up, leaving the room—Black then followed her.

* * *

><p>Burgundy watched Cilan, who was several steps ahead of her. A dark cloud of anger hung over his head, she could notice. She looked to her Deerling, and the Pokémon was not sure what to do for his Owner. Burgundy's hand dropped down, resting on her Pokémon's head comfortably, and she cleared her throat.<p>

"Cilan? You okay?" she called.

He did nothing.

"Hey, Cilan?"

He turned his head, glared at her, and then turned his head to the front. Burgundy then hung her head, feeling guilty all of a sudden.

"I'm sorry about your friend, Cilan," Burgundy called.

No reply.

"Look, I know you're close to her—maybe too close—but you have to forget about her," Burgundy said.

Cilan stopped in his steps, and his wife nearly slammed into his back. She gasped out in surprise, and stepped back, looking up at him. He whipped around, icy daggers in his usually bright eyes stared down at her.

"Excuse me?" he said, scowling down at her. "What did you say?"

Pansage looked at his Owner, and he jumped down from his arms, not wanting to be in the middle of the blooming fight.

"U-um, I said you should forget her," Burgundy whispered, eyeing him with an unsure expression.

"Forget her? _Forget her_?" he repeated, seething. eyes wild. "Why? Just like I forgot my family? Like I forgot my life? Like I _will_ forget Pansage?" he screeched loudly.

People on the streets watched them, stopping what they were doing. Burgundy pressed a finger to her lips, and glanced around nervously.

"You're making a scene," she whispered.

"I don't care!" Cilan shouted. "Let me make a scene! I don't give a damn!" He snorted, gripped his fists tightly, and turned away from her, paused, and then returned to face her. "You don't understand. You can't possibly understand! She was my friend—no, she _is_ my friend! And now, she's being taken away from me!"

"B-but, there's still work—you can see her at work."

"But that's only a few hours a day, and we can't spend any more time together," he said, hands slapping to his sides. "My best friend's gone!"

"You'll make a new one."

"_I don't want a new one! I want Iris!_"

Burgundy looked at him, eyes wide, and her hands were clutched to her breast. Her Deerling ducked behind her, ears flattened to the back of his head, and he was obviously scared of Cilan. Pansage looked up to his Owner, mute and still. Cilan stood in his place, panting heavily and his chest started to constrict. He glanced around, seeing all the people who were standing and watching the scene unfold. The bow-tie clad young man let out a deep sigh, and closed his eyes, shaking his head.

"Pansage?"

"P-pansage pan?" the Pokémon called, looking at his Owner.

Cilan cleared his throat, and patted his hand to his leg. "C'mon, let's go home," he called gently, albeit his voice was filled with fatigue.

"Pan," he called, taking his Owner's hand.

Cilan pulled Pansage up, resting the Pokémon upon his shoulders. His eyes were adverted from Burgundy's, feeling shamed and stupid all at once. "Okay," he whispered. "Burgundy . . . I'm sorry, um, let's go."

He turned on his heel, and quickly walked off. Burgundy exchanged looked with Deerling, who cocked his head to the side, looking up at her.

"Deerling deer," he whispered, ears flattened to his head.

Burgundy sighed, and started to walk, hands at her sides. Deerling stood at his place, shook his head, and joined his Owner. And from afar, Zarchin sat in a tree, completely camouflaged in the thick foliage of the tree, and he sighed.

"Oh, boy," he breathed, shaking his head.

* * *

><p>Cress was going to break.<p>

He was going to snap like a weak tree in a thunderstorm. He looked worse than he did before! Look at those dark circles around his eyes—it was like he was wearing a mask. His skin was pale like a piece of blank paper. Poor, poor, Cress—he looked horrible.

The horrors he had seen. He hated his job. He _hated_ it more than anything. Cress looked at his reflection, staring deeply at it, and then he reached up, touching the mirror with gentle fingertips. He then sighed, hanging his head as his hair rolled over his cheeks.

* * *

><p>"What's got you?" Chili inquired, staring at Cilan with a confused face.<p>

Cilan lay on his bed, arms crossed tightly over his breast, a sour look on his face as he stared at the wall in front of him. Pansage continued to stare sadly at his Owner. The little monkey Pokémon nudged Cilan with his fat paw, staring at him.

"Pan pansage?" the Pokémon breathed gently.

Pansear blinked, cocking his head to the side. Swinging from the chair he was perched on, he landed on the bed that Cilan was laying on. He also nudged Cilan, but the human male did absolutely nothing. His breathing was low and steady, and the look he had on his face was a complete scowl.

"Pansear pan pansear?" the fire monkey inquired to the grass monkey.

"Sage pansage pan," he replied curtly.

Pansear seemed surprised, and his eyes widened. "Sear pan pansear sear," he stated, lithe tail twitching from side to side.

"Enough you two," Cilan snapped, glaring at the two Pokemon.

Panpour, who was on the other bed, shrank down, pressing himself to the bed covers. Pansage and Pansear twitched, staring at the peeved young man before they both stepped away from him, joining Panpour on the other bed. Cilan snorted, pushing himself into the mattress. Chili arched his eyebrow, and placed his hands to his hips.

"Damn, you're in a mood," he muttered. "What crawled up your ass in died?"

Cilan gripped his arms, fingernails digging into his flesh. "Could you leave me alone?" he grumbled, his eyes narrowed.

Chili stood there, staring at his brother. "First Cress and now you?" he said, running his tongue over his teeth. "Man, what's gotten into both of you?" The other brother turned on his heel, and flopped onto his bed.

Cilan really did not want to talk to his brother about what was bothering him. His eyes moved to Pansage, and he let out a deep sigh.

"Pansage," he called gently.

"Pan?" he called meekly, lifting up his head, staring at his Owner.

He opened his arms out, hoping that his Pokémon would comply and jump into his arms. Right now, he just wanted comfort.

"Come here," he whispered.

Pansage perked up, and leapt from the bed to the one Cilan was resting on. The little Pokémon crawled into his arms, seeking comfort, and he nuzzled closer to his Owner. Cilan sighed, hugging his Pokémon tightly, not wanting to let go. Panpour and Pansear exchanged looks, and both shrugged. Standing up from the bed, Chili moved to the bathroom door, and gently rapped his knuckles against the wood.

"Hey, Cress!" he called.

"Go away, Chili," Cress' voice hissed from the other side of the door.

"Oh, c'mon, others need the bathroom," he said in a low tone, his dark eyes staring intently at the door. "You're not the only one in here."

"_I said_ _go_ _away!_"

Chili stepped back, shook his head, and sighed. "Fine, be that way," he muttered, flopping back onto his bed. He yawned, stretched his back out, and rolled over his belly.

Cilan lifted his head up, staring at the door that opened to the bathroom. He blinked, looking at it for a moment before deciding to try to talk to his other brother. The young male stroked Pansage's foliage tuft, and lifted himself from the bed, approaching the door.

"Hey, Cress, are you alright?" he asked with a gentle tone.

"Go _away_, Cilan," Cress snarled.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"_I'm fine_."

"Then why are you locked in the bathroom? You don't sound fine to me."

"I'm _fine_. Thanks for your concern, but I'm perfectly fine. So go away."

Cilan licked his dry lips, cocking his head to the side, and his hands slipped into his pockets. He snorted, shivered a little, and turned to leave the bathroom door. Why was he so different? What was wrong with him?

* * *

><p>"<em>Do you want to participate in the war, son?"<em>

_N glanced up, brush in hand as he smoothed out his long hair with his nimble fingers. "W-what do you mean?" he inquired, staring at Virizion, who was approaching his side._

"_Well, I mean fight in it, son," he answered curtly._

"_But I don't know how to fight," N said, arching an eyebrow to the Pokémon at his right._

"_Well, then, that won't do, now will it?" he said, a grin forming on his lips. "Then you should come with me. I can teach you how to fight."_

"_You can?" N inquired, cocking his head to the side._

"_Oh, yes," Virizion said, eyes closed and head erect. "After all, I am the best when it comes to teaching and fighting. How does that sound to you? You can help us lead, since you know your way around the place."_

"_W-well, when you put it like that," N said, his voice drifting as he stared at his reflection in the mirror._

_Virizion blinked, staring at the human for a moment. "I'll let you think about it, son," he said, his voice brought down to a low tone. "Tell me when you make your decision, alright?"_

_N nodded his head, his expression distant as his hands raked through his long tangled mess of hair. "Okay, right, yeah," he said, his words drifting and slowly dying in his throat._

_Virizion stared down at the human, bobbed his head, and turned to leave him in some solitude. N dragged the brush down through his hair, and groaned. Everything was happening so fast—it was so unreal._

* * *

><p><em>Ssssk.<em>

_Ssssk._

He tried to be silent, but his hands wouldn't stop.

_Ssssk._

_Ssssk._

His fingernails ran along the inside of his palm, creating that stupid noise. Cilan twitched ever so subtly, and he let out a sigh. He was still down that he could not see Iris as much as he used to. He wasn't sure why he was feeling so glum. Cilan rolled over onto his stomach, trying to no disturb his sleeping Pansage. The moon's rays were peaking through the curtains, basking him and his brother in pale light. He twitched again, and rolled over to his side.

He couldn't sleep.

He growled softly, carefully moving up from his plush mattress, and shuffled over to the bathroom. _Stupid rules, stupid morons in uniforms with sticks up their asses_, he hissed to himself in his head. _Taking everything I care about from me. First my parents—wait, parents? I have parents?—next Iris, and soon they're going to take Pansage from me. Damn bastards._

Cilan carefully opened the door, and stepped inside. Closing it with gentleness, and reached over to flip on the light. He sluggishly moved over to the mirror, and glanced up. Just then, he saw a face that was not his looking back at him. Startled completely out of his skin, he whipped around, eyes wide, the hairs on the back of his neck was erect, and he was going to scream. A hand clamped over his mouth, and the creature hissed.

"Don't scream," the voice said in a low tone.

The creature was a bipedal beast with a long mane tucked into a large bead with razor-sharp claws and was rather frightened looking (and somewhat cute in a weird way). Cilan was stiffened in the creature's furry arms, completely horrified. His hands were sweating—becoming clammy and wet to the touch. His eyes were completely enlarged as the iris became a dot in a sea of white. His hair on the back of his neck began stiff, and his skin shivered.

"Don't be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you," the creature said.

Cilan tried to twist free.

"Cilan Bourgeois, I'm not going to harm you."

The human froze, staring up at the creature, and it then pulled its claw from Cilan's mouth, allowing him to speak.

"W-who are you?" Cilan rasped out, staring at the beast. "How do you know my name? What are you?"

The being erected itself to full height, and looked down at Cilan—its eyes stiff and unwavering.

"My name is Zarchin the Zorak, and I've been following you for quite some time, Cilan."


	15. Help has come

**Updates may be slower nowadays. Sorry. BTW, have you noticed why the chapter titles are not capitalized yet?**

* * *

><p>Help has come<p>

XV

Cilan locked the bathroom door and dimmed the light so no one outside would see the giant talking Pokémon that was reclining the tub as if he were taking a bath. The human looked firmly at the Zoroark, deciding if he had really lost his mind or if this was really happening. There was a tense silence between them before the Zoroark sighed, moving his claws to the back of his head, and relaxed fully; kicking his feet up to rest at the head of the tub. Cilan still could not rationalize what was happening. His hands came up, slapping against his cheeks, and he whined.

"This is a dream," he chanted, slapping his hands against his face again. "This is all a dream."

"Hate to break it to ya, but this here en't no dream," Zarchin said, curling up his lip to show his sharp fangs.

"B-b-but you're a Pokémon," Cilan snarled, jabbing a finger at him. "Right?"

"Yes, I'm a Pokémon. I'm a Zoroark, the final evolution of Zoura."

Cilan blinked, remembering the familiarity of the word "evolution." His hands dropped down at his side, and he shifted, shivers running up and down his spine. Zarchin stared at Cilan, and licked his lips with a long tongue.

"What?"

"Evolution . . ."

"Yes, and?"

"T-that sounds familiar," Cilan said, taking a seat on the closed lid of the toilet. He wagged his finger, staring at the Zourak. "That's when a Pokémon changes their shape permanently, right? When they get stronger, right?"

"Yep," Zarchin said, a lazy yawn passing by his lips.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Zarchin, am I boring you?" Cilan asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"What? Oh, no," Zarchin said, waving his claw in the air. "It's been a long day, Cilan. It's not that you're boring. I'm just tired."

Cilan stiffened, thoughts running through his head a mile a minute.

"What's going through your head, kid?"

"Many things."

"Like what?"

"Why are you here?" Cilan asked, turning his head to look at the Pokémon.

Zarchin stared at the human, and scratched his furry chest. "Well, I'm here to save you," he said, licking his teeth with his tongue.

"Save me?"

"You don't like being here, right?" Zarchin said, dark eyes looking at him. "I've been following you and that Iris girl."

"I-Iris?"

"Yes. Don't think that I haven't heard everything that you and Iris had said and talked about. I know you two don't want to be here."

Cilan's heart raced, and his chest ached. "You've been stalking us," he growled, his hands gripping his knees so tightly that his nails dug past his pajama pants and into his skin.

"For your own good," Zarchin said, scratching under his chin. "Yeah. Look, I've rescued many from this region and sent them to better regions where the Authority has no power. I can get you out of here, along with Iris. What do you say?"

The human boy looked at the Pokémon, his face stern. "How can I trust you," he muttered, arching a thin eyebrow.

"Hello, if you haven't noticed, I'm a fucking talking Pokémon," Zarchin said, placing his claws to his chest and his eyes large with his teeth exposed. Cilan then noticed that there were cuts and scars along his body where the fur did not grow back. "I think that I am the only person here that you and Iris can trust."

"Are you alone?"

"Nope."

"There's more of your kind?"

"Talking Pokémon that want to kill Authority and abolish the evil and corrupt government that runs Unova? Yep."

"But, where do hide?"

"The Wastelands—in underground tunnels. We've lived there for over fifty years; surviving off underground water pools and controlled planting. We've done well. After the Pokémon Purge, we had to move. Ever since then, we've been growing stronger and building an army. We're going to over-throw the Authority."

Cilan sat there, his expression distant, and his mind drank in everything that the Pokémon had told him. His hands were tangled together, his nails scratching his skin until it bled. He hung his head, mind reeling, and he licked his dry lips.

"So, do you want to get outta here before things get nasty?" Zarchin asked, looking at his claws.

"Well, yes," Cilan said. "But . . ."

"What?"

"What about Iris? Are you going to talk to her?"

"Well, yeah," Zarchin said, his foot twitching. "I'll talk to her tonight, hopefully. That is if I can get into her room. I might have to be a Joltik to get in . . ."

"Joltik?" Cilan echoed, cocking his head to the side, completely unfamiliar with the name.

"Oh, right, you don't know what that is," Zarchin said, rolling his eyes. "A Joltik is a small yellow bug Pokémon." He held out his claws, and held his "thumb" claw and "finger" claw nearly touching as he parted them. "They're very small."

"Oh," Cilan said, nodding his head. Yellow. That also sounded familiar . . . "And what about my brothers?"

"What about them?"

"Can I take them as well?" Cilan asked, his hands shaking.

"Well, I guess, but I wanted to just take you and Iris since the police are stalking you two," he said, bobbing his head slightly. "And I got the okay to only take you two, so . . ."

"But, my brothers," Cilan whispered, turning to the closed door, frowning. "T-they have to come too. I want them to come."

Zarchin looked at Cilan, a small frown creased his elongated face. "Okay, look, I'll go back home and ask the Musketeers if I can bring them as well, alright?" he stated, scratching his leg. "Deal?"

Cilan breathed a sigh of relief, and nodded his head vigorously. "Yes, thank you, Zarchin," he said, rubbing at his wrist. "That means a lot."

"Hey, no problem," Zarchin said, grinning, pulling himself from the tub. "I understand that you don't want to lose them. They're family, right? And family sticks together, am I not correct?"

Cilan blinked, staring blankly at the Zoroark. "I assume so," he said softly.

"Right."

Zarchin, in a flash, turned into a Pidove, and hovered in the air, staring down at the human male. Cilan, taken back in surprise, stared at the Pokémon soldier with some awe before shaking his head from side to side.

"Are you going back to the Wastelands?" he asked, brows knitted together.

"Well, first I'm going to talk to Iris, then yes, I will return home," he said, bobbing his head. His wing beats were perfectly timed, and a _huffing_ sound was made with each wing beat. "I will give you a weak to comply—you must stock enough bottled water and canned foods. The trip to Shinnoh is a long one, and you need enough food and water to survive the trip."

"How much do we need?"

"Think about eight water bottles per person, and ten cans of food," Zarchin said, though he was a little unsure, and his voice was drenched in that uncertainty. "I do believe. Damn it. I have to make sure. You would think after years of doing this that I would know the correct amount. Pfft." He darted gracefully through the air, and to the cracked window. His little feathered body landed on the small windowsill, and he turned back to Cilan. "On a second thought: make it ten bottles of water and twelve cans of food, just to make sure. Can't go wrong with that, right?"

"I suppose, yes. But where can I get that said food?"

"Sometimes in the kitchen they have extra food not sold and they throw them in the back. They've got all sorts of crap. If you go back there, you can get what you need. They don't count any of the cans and bottles, so you're safe."

Cilan curtly nodded his head. "Right," he said, his eyes looking off in another direction. "You'll tell Iris this too, correct?"

"Well, of course," Zarchin answered, saying it as if it was the craziest things he had ever heard. "You just focus on getting the supplies and telling your brothers, okay?"

"Yes."

"Good lad," Zarchin said, shifting from claw to claw, and he stretched out his wings. "Well, I'm off. You get a good night's sleep, okay?"

"Yes, and thank you."

The Pidove-Zarchin smiled gently, and nodded his head. "I'll see you in a week, Cilan," he said, spreading his wings and left the windowsill. "Good luck and farewell."

And with that, he was off.

Cilan stood there, his mind reeling—trying to decide if what had happened was real or just a dream. He pinched himself, mewled in pain, and noticed that he was still awake. It was real. The whole thing—it only meant one thing: he had to do what Zarchin had asked him to do. He rubbed his heel into the tile, sighed deeply, and left the bathroom—flipping off the light with his nimble fingers.


	16. Brother

**Missed me? I've missed you all. I told you I was going to take a break from this. BTW, have any of you figured out why the titles of each chapter **_**aren't**_** capitalized? None of you have given me an answer, so what do you think?**

* * *

><p>Brother<p>

XVI

"_He wants us to do __**what**__?"_

_Zarchin twitched, kneeling down on the floor before his masters. "Cilan wishes to bring his brothers, sirs," he reiterated._

"_Why does he want his brothers?" Terrakion asked, his upper lip curling upward—not in disgust, but in confusion._

"_They are his brothers, Terrakion," Cobalion answered with a curt bob of his head. "And he loves them dearly."_

"_But Zarchin has informed us that one displays signs of a lobotomy and the other is extremely depressed," Keldeo said in a whisper, his water-like tail swishing from side to side. "They might be a lost cause."_

"_But Cilan may not take 'no' for an answer," Cobalion said. "He still loves his brothers, and he will probably fight us to have them with him."_

_N stood close by Virizion, a hand resting upon the Pokémon's elegant neck. This was the first time he had been brought to the Council. His eyes were upon the upright bowing Pokémon in the centre of the floor. He looked familiar, but he wasn't sure. Zarchin twitched, his arm rested against the middle of his body, and his eyes flickered between the leaders of the Pokémon._

"_Well, tell him that they are a lost cause," Terrakion muttered, grounding his heavy foot into the ground. "He may love them, but he does not even know that he loves them. Hell, he doesn't even know what love even is!"_

"_That doesn't mean that he cannot feel it, Terrakion," Virizion said, erecting his head. "Just because one does not know what something is does not mean one cannot feel it, or see it and what not."_

_Keldeo nodded his head. "That's right!" he said, beaming proudly. "Virizion has a point. He does not know what love is, but he can still feel it. I don't think we can leave his brothers alone there."_

_N shifted, feeling uncomfortable being between the talking Pokémon._

"_But I fear that they may be brainwashed," Cobalion said in a low, wise tone. "If so, our secret cover will be blown."_

"_True," Keldeo mumbled, looking away from a moment before turning back to look at the head leader. "But they still have a chance, and they should have that chance."_

"_But they are a risk," Terrakion growled._

"_So, they don't deserve that right for freedom? Is that it?" Keldeo snapped._

"_No, n—not that," the heavy Pokémon muttered, turning his head away. "I'm just saying I'm worried about our cover."_

_N turned up to Virizion, who nuzzled against the boy for comfort. "How are you, son?" he asked in a whisper._

"_Um, okay," N answered, reaching up to tug at a lock of hair. "Can I speak?"_

_The slender Pokémon blinked, and looked at the boy with surprise. "You want to give your opinion?" he asked._

"_Yes, please."_

"_Alright," Virizion said. He raised his head, and loudly cleared his throat, which paused the bickering between the Pokémon leaders. "Excuse me, but N would like to speak," he stated in a loud tone._

_Cobalion eyed the human, and there was a small smile upon his face. "Well, N, what do you want to say?" he asked._

_Zarchin shivered, staring at the boy with surprise. N? N? __**His**__ N? The human stepped forward, and Zarchin's stare never left the boy's face. His pointed ear twitched, and his jaw was slightly slack. It was __**really**__ N. The human stood awkwardly in front of the Pok_é_mon, and he rubbed at his arm._

"_Hi," he greeted, unsure of what to say. "Um, I want to say that C-Cilan should have his brothers with him."_

"_Why do agree with Keldeo?" Cobalion said in a low tone. "I would like to hear your thoughts."_

"_W-well, that is the last of his family," N said, rubbing at the back of his head. "He should have his family. I was brought up upon what love is, and I rather like love. It sounds nice. H-he should have his brothers before they are taken from him."_

_Terrakion stared at the human, his face stoic._

"_Look, I know it's dangerous, but this is important to Cilan," N said. "He should have his family."_

_Cobalion nodded his head, softly smiling. "Thank you, N," he said, his ear flicking. "You may sit." He turned to Virizion. "By the way, I heard that you are training N to battle."_

"_Yes."_

"_Okay." Cobalion shifted, and lifted his head high. "Zarchin," he called._

"_Y-yes, sir," Zarchin said, tearing his gaze away from the human._

"_Go tell Cilan that he can bring his brothers."_

"_Yes, sir."_

* * *

><p>Iris looked to Cilan.<p>

Cilan looked to Iris.

The young man's eyes shifted from side to side as his Pansage sat perfectly on his shoulder. Iris held her Axew close to her chest, and she kept her eyes on Cilan. Her eyes then shifted not to look too suspicious, and stroked her Pokémon. The eyes of their watchers were upon them, and they had to look as if they were doing their job. Cilan inched closer to his friend, his Pansage jumping from his shoulder to land onto the floor, and Axew joined the grass monkey.

"Hey, Iris," the boy whispered.

"Hey, Cilan," Iris said back.

The dark-skinned female grabbed a Pokémon with soft fur, and placed him onto her lap. "How are you?" she asked, grabbing a brush to smooth out the fur.

"Restless," Cilan answered, rubbing at his neck.

He wondered if Zarchin had talked to her, but he wasn't sure how to ask her. He reached across to the squirming Pokémon in her grasp, and scratched it under its chin to calm it. The patting did the trick, and Iris was able to brush out the soft fur. Cilan leaned across, and whispered into her ear:

"Zarchin."

She paused, and looked up to her friend, who had a determined look upon his face. She stared at him for a few seconds before turning back to the Pokémon on her lap. "He talked to you too?" Iris asked in a low tone.

So he _had_ spoken to her last night. "Yes," Cilan answered.

"Should we trust him?"

Cilan's eyes glanced to the guards watching them, and they shared a stare before the young man turned to stare back at his friend. "I think so," he stated. "I mean—" He brought his voice down to a whisper. "—a _talking_ Pokemon, Iris. How can we not trust him?"

"True," she replied, nodding her head. "Do you think he'll help us?"

"I can feel it in my bones," Cilan said. "So, we should collect food and water for the trip."

"Where are we supposed to get that?"

"Zarchin told me that if we go into the kitchen, we can find canned foods and water that has not been sold, and they may throw them out. Didn't he tell you that?"

"I—I think," Iris said, scratching the top of the Pokémon's head. "I was a little frazzled."

Cilan smiled gently at her. "I understand," he said, taking the Pokémon in her arms and into his. "I was a little too. I mean, there was a giant talking Pokémon sitting in my bathtub."

Iris giggled, placing a hand over her mouth to stifle them. "He was in your bathtub?" the female human asked with a brow arched.

"Yep, like he was taking a bath, but with no water."

She giggled again. Cilan smiled directly at her, feeling his face warm up. The guard glanced their way, and the young man turned away from his dark-skinned friend. "Keep busy," he muttered to her.

"Right," she said, finding something to do with the Pokémon on her lap. "Got it."

They kept busy with their work, and Axew and Pansage chattered to each other in their own little language. Iris and Cilan did not speak (unless it was little orders) until a good ten minutes later. Iris arched her thin brow, and whispered:

"Say, can you bring your brothers with us?"

"I'm not sure," Cilan replied. "Zarchin might come back to tell me."

"Oh, okay."

"I hope I can bring them."

"Yeah—they're your brothers. Of course you want to bring them."

"Yeah," Cilan breathed, rubbing down the thick-skinned Pokémon with his hands. "I really do hope so too."

* * *

><p><em>Nothing.<em>

_Nothing._

_For the love of God, where was that damn kid?_

_The Authority tapped his fingers on his desk, and his other hand rubbed at his chin. He had to be getting help. But who was out in the Wastelands? No one! For years the Communities had been perfectly trained to stay within their homes and never leave. So, humans had been ruled out as possible helpers. But that had to be it—only __**humans**__ could help him._

_**Hssk.**_

"_Sir."_

_The Authority turned in his chair, seeing a member of the Shadow Traid standing within the shadows of his room._

"_Yes, __**what**__ do you want? Have you any news?"_

"_Yes," the Shadow Traid member said. "It is not news you will like."_

"_Just tell me."_

"_We have not found your son."_

_The Authority rubbed at his temples vigorously, glaring at the Shadow Traid member. "Of course," he muttered._

"_But we have reason to believe that someone—or some persons—are helping him."_

_The older man arched a brow, and turned to stare at the slender figure before him. "Do you have any proof?" he inquired roughly._

"_Nothing physical, but that is what we believe."_

"_I was thinking the same thing," the Authority stated as he rubbed at his jaw line. "There is no other way he could survive. But who would live in the Wastelands?"_

"_I'm not sure. Pokémon?"_

_The leader arched a brow, staring at the younger male, and then laughed. "Preposterous!" he exclaimed, waving his hand down. "All the wild Pokemon have been eliminated in the Pokemon Purge! There is no possible way."_

_The man nodded his head. "Yes, I suppose so," the Shadow Traid member stated. "Either way, we will search for your son."_

"_Good."_

_And with that, the Shadow Traid member was gone in the blink of an eye._

* * *

><p>After finishing up with his work and spending a few hours with his wife, Cilan was beat. Pansage yawned deeply while he rested upon his owner's shoulder. The human turned to stare at his dear Pokémon, and smiled tiredly.<p>

"Tired, too, my friend?" the young man asked.

"Sage, pan pansage," the grass monkey replied.

Cilan chuckled, rubbing his hand across his cheek, and brought it down. "Me too," he said, forcing a smile upon his thin lips. "I can't wait to get into the bath, then into my clothing, and into bed. That sounds nice, yes?"

"Pansage!" the Pokémon agreed brightly.

The young man rubbed his hands together to keep his palms warm, and he approached his home as he opened the door to enter.

"Some tea sounds nice," Cilan stated randomly. "I deserve some tea. I want some tea."

"Pansage."

"And you want some milk?"

"Sage pan!" the grass monkey said as his lithe tail swished from side to side.

Cilan chuckled, and climbed up the stairs to his level. He slowed his pace as he heard some clicking noises. The young man paused completely, listening to the sounds.

_Click. Click._

It sounded like someone—or multiple people—were taking pictures. Of what? He was unsure of what was being photographed. Cilan looked to his Pansage, and both exchanged looked of confusion. He continued to climb the steps until he reached his floor. He glanced down the hallway, seeing people crowd around an open door, and a good portion of them were taking pictures—the bright white flashes bounced off the walls and created a bubble of light. Cilan cocked his head to the side, and his brows became knitted and his eyes narrowed. Was that his room? Was that his brothers' room?

"Hey!" Cilan called, stepping forward. "What's going on?"

A sleek, adult man with a bulky camera turned to the young man with the Pansage, and a look of surprise was upon his slender face. "Cilan," he said, breaking from the crowd. "You are Cilan, right?"

"Yes, now what is going on?" the young man asked, trying to peer over and around the man that was blocking his way.

"I'm sorry," he said bluntly.

"Sorry? Sorry for what?" Cilan demanded, surprised that his voice was so rough. "Now let me through!"

He pushed by the adult, and went into the crowd of photographers. Maneuvering his way in the ocean of people with camera, he entered his room—the room he and his brothers shared—he was stunned speechless. Police were there, taking notes, scoping the area, and putting things into little bags—Chili, Panpour, and Pansear were not there. But Cress sure was. However, Cress was not alive—and he was hanging by a rope wrapped around his neck, which hung from the chandelier on centre of the ceiling. Cilan's air left his lungs as he stared at the lifeless body of his brother move lazily from left to right. Cress' face was paper-white, his eyes half-open, and his jaw open.

Cilan's world faded away. No longer could he hear the voices of the people around him or the clicking of their cameras. No longer could he see the people at his door, the people in his room, or the police going to him and asking questions. The world was black, and all that could be seen was Cress' limp, lifeless body hanging from the ceiling. Cilan could feel tears brim at the corners of his eyes, and it started to streak down his cheeks.

"Brother—C-Cress . . . Oh, my dear brother . . ."


	17. World of grey

**The more I write of this, the more fucked up it gets.**

**Wrote this while listening to **_**The Wall**_** by Pink Floyd. Lulz.**

**Oh, by the way, happy holidays. xD**

* * *

><p>World of grey<p>

XVII

Everything was black.

This moment was surreal.

He was dead. Dead. _Dead_. Kicked the bucket—he's going to push some flowers. Six feet under he shall go. Cashed in his chips. His brother was _gone_. And he wasn't coming back anytime soon. Can't reanimate the dead. Not possible. His world was spinning—spinning endlessly like a whirlpool or a top that did not stop.

Is anyone out there? Is there anyone that could save him from despair?

Cilan sat in his chair, body bent over, elbows against his knees, hands cradling his head; whimpering loud sounds as tears rolled down his face. Pansage sat in the empty chair next to him. The little grass monkey was in a stupor. His little rounded face was blank, his tail limp, and his body stiff. Cilan stared at his semi-polished shoes, and focused on the little blotches of dried mud that caked the sides and sole of his said shoes. The grass Pokémon jumped onto the floor, and Pansage craned his head, staring up at his horror-stricken face, and the Pokémon inched closer to the human, and rested his large paws on Cilan's covered shoes.

"P-pansage?" the Pokémon whispered out.

Cilan shook his head, which were still being cradled between his slender hands. "How could this have happened?" he moaned out. "How could this . . .?"

The Pokémon shivered, and nudged closer to his human to comfort him. Cilan's hands dropped from his head, and he let out a moan. Pansage watched as tears dripped from the human's eyes like little waterfalls. The tears pooled on the hard, polished reflecting floor, and sometimes landed on the soft fur of the Pokémon. The grass monkey jumped back onto the chair next to him, and he nuzzled against Cilan. The young man let out a little gasp, and reached over to pull his Pokémon to his chest, and held him tight.

"Pansage, h-how could th-this have happened to him?"

Pansage, from his place in Cilan's fast grip, stared at the human's face. His face was completely red, cheeks marred with a river of hot, salty tears, and his eyes empty. His lower lip trembled, and his teeth grazed against the soft flesh of his lower lip—trying to cease its shaking. The Pokémon held his human in return, and purred into his flat breast.

"Why him?" Cilan asked, his voice stuck in grief. "W-why him. I—I knew something w-was wrong. He was a-acting weird. S-s-something was obviously wrong."

"Pansage sage," the Pokemon replied.

"I s-should have been more forceful in a-asking him what was the m-matter with him," Cilan rambled on, his eyes wide as he stared at the wall before him. "W—why didn't I do that? Why did he do that t-t—to himself?" He hung his head, and clutched Pansage closer to his slumped frame. "I was so foolish."

"Pan pansage sage pan," Pansage argued, not wanting his human to feel so pathetic. _It's not your fault_.

Cilan pulled himself to erect his lithe, broken body, and he sniffled. "It's my fault, I s-should have done something," he said, reaching up to dry his wet eyes.

Pansage shook his head, and nudged his human's jaw line tenderly, trying to soothe Cilan's broken soul. Cilan reached across, his hand clutching Pansage's thick paw tenderly, and he let out a shaky sigh.

"I should h-have d-done something," Cilan muttered. "I s-should have forced h-him to talk to me. I s-should have asked fo-for help."

Pansage was silent, unsure of what to do or say. The little grass monkey held his owner close, trying to calm his shaking owner. His paw brushed against Cilan's cheek, drying his face with that said large paw. Cilan sniffled, feeling his chest constrict violently, and he gagged, hanging his head in shame and guilt. He didn't bother to look up as he heard footsteps come closer to him.

"Cilan Bourgeois?"

The young man didn't rear up his head; he only stared at the shadow of the man that stood before him.

"Yes, sir?" Cilan muttered.

"How are you holding up?"

"Horrible," Cilan grumbled. He wasn't going to lie—he wasn't holding up well. "My b-brother is dead. How would you be?"

The man cringed at the bitterness of the young man's voice before Cilan let out a hiccup, and then spoke:

"H-how long had he been there?"

The man cleared his throat. "Well, we figure that Cress was hanging there for an hour or so," the older male said. "His death was quick, we believe."

"Where is Chili?" Cilan quickly inquired.

"Um, he saw Cress first, and he became troubled," the man answered, staring down at the boy. "We moved him to another Community for some help."

Cilan blinked, and reared up his head, staring at the tall, broad-shouldered man with the thick wavy hair and handlebar moustache with a surprised look. His face was stern and cleaned of all emotion as he looked down at the slender young man with the grass monkey Pokémon.

"He's _gone_?"

"For now," the man answered. "Just until he get some help."

"And Pansear and Panpour?"

"They've been taken."

Taken? Cilan knew what he meant, and he hung his head in sorrow. It was just him and Pansage. They were all that were left of their little family unit. They were gone from his life, now. The young man shivered as if he were in some physically cold place.

"You and your brothers are closer to becoming of Age, so it would be best if they were to be taken into custody."

"S-so we're alone? I ha-have n-n-no family," Cilan stammered out, watching as his fists trembled against his legs.

The man was silent. He then let out a deep grunt, and his perfectly polished shoes shifted as he then uttered a single word that made Cilan's stomach drop:

"Yes."

Cilan lowered his head even more, and gripped the hair on his head.

"Well, not completely—there's your wife."

Cilan let out a displeased grunt, and shook his head. Pansage stared at his human, his mouth a little O and his eyes seeped in sadness. He hung his head, and he stared at his large paws as his mouth closed up into a flat line upon his furry face.

"Do you want to see her?"

"N-no. No. I don't want to see her."

He wanted to see Iris.

"Okay. Do you wish to go home?"

"T-that would be nice. B-but, can I see my brother first?"

Brother. His blood. His flesh.

The man arched his thick brow, and stared down at Cilan. "You want to see your brother?" he asked, a deep surprise in his voice.

"Y-yes," Cilan stated, moistening his dry lips. "I w-want to se-see him. Please."

The man looked over the slender young man's lithe frame, analyzing his body language, and then he let out a grunt, and the nod of the head. "Okay," he said, reaching up to rub at his neck. "I'm not supposed to be doing this, but yeah. Okay. Come along now."

Cilan shivered, and robotically scooped up Pansage in his shaking arms. He knew that he could not go back to his room, for it was now a crime scene until further notice. Pansage nuzzled against his human owner, hoping to give him some comfort and warmth in his time of darkness and cold. Cilan's eyes were endless orbs of undying pain and sorrow. He followed the man that walked on briskly ahead of him. He was risking getting in trouble for doing this, but he was doing it anyways. The young man needed some solitude, and he was going to give it to him. Corridors by corridors—all looked the same. Thick-plated windows that could look out but not look in were placed into walls, and it reflected the humans' and the Pokémon's images upon shiny skin. Cilan dark not look anywhere but forward. Tears marred his hot cheeks, and he fought to keep them silent.

The man then approached a door at the end of a hallway. He reached into his pockets, and pulled out a ring of keys. After finding a small sliver one, he placed it into the deadbolt, and opened the door. This was where the bodies were kept. It was cold inside, and Cilan tried to suppress a shiver, but to no prevail. A puff of white came from his dry lips, and he watched as it became nothing. The man searched the compartments, skimming the prints with his fingertips as he landed on Cress' resting place. He opened the hatch, and pulled out Cress' lifeless body. His form was covered with a sheet, and all that was shown was his face. His skin was drained to be pure white, his eyes closed, and his hair trimmed short. Markings around his neck where the rope had been were darker than the rest of his skin.

Cilan stared at his twin brother, the breath leaving his constricting lungs. Pansage looked down at the body, shivering in his furry coat. He nuzzled into Cilan, who held him closer. The young boy soon to be a man stared hard at his brother—as if his mind had not completely put together that this dead body was his brother. His sniffled, and rubbed at his wetted eyes with the back of his hand. He swallowed the growing lump in his throat, and gagged as his stomach shifted uneasily in his body. Cilan reached out, touching the cold flesh on his brother's face. He rubbed his thumb there in circles. Someone used to do this to them when they were little. Who? He had forgotten.

Cilan violently shivered, and whimpered. Cress' cold flesh against his warm flesh was unnerving. He sniffled again as Pansage clutched to his shoulder comfortingly. The last son pulled back his hand, and slipped it into his black pant pocket swiftly.

"G-g-g-goodbye, brother," he stammered out, shadows hooding his watery eyes.

He quickly turned on his heel, and ran. He ran out of the room, down the hallways, down the corridors, past surprised and confused doctors and physicians; he burst out the front door, scaring several people out of their skin as he leapt down the stone stairs, and ran down the street. He ran until his legs gave out, and his chest ached like someone or something had him in a vice grip. Cilan ceased in his running, clutched at his sides as he leaned against a wall. Pansage cooed softly to him as the young man sobbed waterfalls of tears. He wanted to die. His stomach lurched. Cilan craned his neck to the sky, seeing how day became night in the long moments he stood there. His breathing was ragged as he sobbed his eyes out. Pansage held his head between his large paws. Cilan reached up with his hands, clutching Pansage tightly.

"H-h-how could t-this have happened?" Cilan stammered out, wetness coating his lips.

"Pansage pan . . ."

"W—we're alone . . ."

"Pansage . . ."

"They're gone . . ."

Pansage said nothing but allowed his actions to do the talking. He stroked Cilan comfortingly, cooing softly as Cilan slipped to the dirty ground. His head was pressed to the stone wall, his legs folded to his chest, and his arms in his lap.

This was a dream. A horrible, horrible dream.

Wake up. Wake up.

_Wake up . . ._


	18. Alone

**HAI GUYZ.**

**Missed me?**

* * *

><p>Alone<p>

XVIII

"_What is love?"_

"_A worthless human emotion. It has been eliminated now because there is now no use for it."_

* * *

><p>She had heard the news from the grapevine. Poor Cilan. Iris sat on a bench in a park, watching the children play with each other, their Pokémon, or on the play set. It was after-work hours, and Axew sat perfectly on her lap. It had been a few days since she had seen Cilan. However, she had collected bottles and canned foods, and stored them away in a bag in her closet. He crooned as her fingertips brushed against his back comfortingly. She didn't want to see Black right now. She was not in the mood to see him or talk to him. Iris was unsure of the reason why (other than just not liking him), but she just didn't. Her teeth tugged on the soft flesh of her lower lip. She wanted to see him, but she did not know where to find him. Knowingly, he would be in a hotel somewhere in the Community. It was not like Iris hadn't broken into the computer system to get some information before.<p>

But she couldn't afford a third strike.

Her hand approached Iris' mouth, and tapped her fingernails against her upper teeth. Her fingers then trailed down, touching her lips, fingernails scraping the soft flesh. Her hand dropped back down to rest on Axew, and continued to stroke him. There was a flutter above her, but she did not once glance up—in fact, she did not hear it. Whatever made the fluttering sound dove into a tree, rattling the foliage violently.

"Psst," a voice called.

Iris perked up, and glanced around. All she could see where the children that were now leaving the park, the parents, and empty space. Trees were planted with shrubbery at the bottom of the trunk, and dead leaves scattered on the ground. Iris blinked, and then shrugged her shoulders.

"Psst."

Iris snapped her head up, and this time Axew looked at her, confused.

"Hello?" she called.

"Up in the Goddamn tree."

Iris looked to her right, and noticed a pair of eyes staring at her. _Zarchin_. The human female dropped her head, and glanced around, searching for anyone that could see them. With the flick of her hand, she motioned for Zarchin to come towards her. The Pokémon glanced around to be aware of his surroundings, and he darted from the thick foliage to her hand. He was a Pidove-shaped now, and in the blink of an eye, he became a small yellow insect-Pokémon (one she had never seen), and he crawled into her sleeve, up her arm, and popped out to rest on her shoulder.

"What happened to Cilan?" he asked. "When I went to his room, I saw coppers all over the damn place. What happened?"

Iris glanced around, making sure that no one was there. "Cress, his brother, killed himself," she answered.

Zarchin twitched, surprised. "K—killed himself?" he said, abashed. "H-how?"

"Hung himself."

"Holy _shit_."

"I know," Iris said, staring at Axew with a sad expression.

"And Chili?"

"He's gone—he's somewhere else," Iris answered. "Don't ask me where, but he's no longer here with his brother."

"Damn," Zarchin said slowly. He hung his head, shivered, and then looked at her. "That poor kid. Do you know where Cilan would be?"

"I don't know," Iris said, furrowing her brows, stroking Axew as he nuzzled against her. "I was thinking about searching for him. However, I've already got two strikes against me. I really can't get a third one . . . If you know what I mean . . ."

Zarchin twitched, and then nodded his small head. "I completely understand," he said, shivering against her warm flesh. "I don't mind finding out for you. I mean—"

"Y-you'd do that?" Iris asked, surprised.

"Absolutely," Zarchin replied, and if he could have grinned, he would have. "I don't mind doing it. After all, the kid's in deep shit. I don't mind pulling him out."

Iris let out a sigh. It seemed as if her heart had been released by a terrible vice, and she visibly relaxed. "Thank you, Zarchin," she said, resting her hand to her chest. "That takes a load off my chest."

"Hey, no problem."

They grew silent when a man passed by her (Zarchin darted under her clothing to hide—Joltik was a Pokémon these people had never seen before). The elder human male peered over at Iris, and she stroked Iris as she pretended to talk gently to him. She didn't even look up at him as he shifted his shoulders, and walked along. Iris' eyes flicked upward, watching as he left the park. She waited for a moment until he completely left the park, and she turned her attention to Zarchin. He spoke:

"Did you do what I told you to do?"

"Yes," she answered.

"Canned goods and water?"

"Yes. I'm collecting more little by little."

"Good girl," Zarchin stated, a sense of pride in his voice. "Well, I should be off. Finding Cilan and all. Poor guy. Did he have a mental breakdown?"

"H—he hasn't been at work in six days," Iris said, a hint of sadness in her tone. She stroked Axew, who licked at her fingertips comfortingly. "I am worried . . ."

"Well, don't worry, I'll go find him."

"Thank you, Zarchin."

"Not a problem—it's my job."

He crawled out from his cover, and jumped up, becoming a Pidove and flew off.

* * *

><p>"<em>People must be controlled."<em>

* * *

><p>Every Community had a secret data "base" or building (it was hidden in plain sight in the middle of the Community, like all "secret" bases). It recorded everything that everyone did every minute at every second. What did a certain someone buy? Type in their name, and their entire history would appear on a computer monitor. Married? Employed? Have children? Alive or dead? Any question could be answered by a simple few keystrokes. Of course, only those who worked for the Authority could access these files. It was highly secured from the outside, and highly secured from the inside. However, for a shape-shifting Pokémon spy, just sneak in through the air conditioning systems (and cutting the camera systems—fools weren't paying any attention in the camera room), and you're good to go.<p>

Zarchin, in the form of a Joltik, zipped through the thick metal plating of the air conditioning systems. It was bloody cold for such a small Pokémon, and to keep warm, he would produce jolts of electricity to keep his body heat up. He shivered, sniffled, and skittered to find an empty computer to hack into. Once in a while, he would peer out of vents and into rooms, and once he came to the conclusion that it was too dangerous, he left to find another place.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, peering out of a vent, shook his little head, and moved along. "There's gotta be one idiot that's left his or her computer."

Zarchin moved along, and after twenty minutes or so of looking, he found one. He chirped with glee as his small yellow body popped out of the opening of the vent, and scuttled down the wall and onto the floor. His form shifted into its normal shape, and slowly approached the computer. Just then, the door behind him opened, and he shifted in the blink of an eye, darting up to the ceiling.

"Hey, thanks for the coffee," a man with slicked back hair said.

"Not a problem," another voice answered.

The man with the mug of coffee placed it down on his desk, and he paused, blinking as he stood at his desk in thought. He seemed to be deep in thought, like he had forgotten to do something, and he whirled around to the door.

"Hey, Marty, I forgot to ask you something," he said, pushing open the door, and once more left the room.

Zarchin waited for a few moments, and after a while, he dropped to the floor, sitting at the chair, and began to type at the keyboard. He quickly pulled up Cilan's profile. There stated his current address, his social identification, his Pokémon, his age, and everything else that was private appeared to him. The Zoroark licked his furry lips, as he scrolled the mouse downward on the screen, drinking in the information. He automatically reached over to the mug of coffee, and took a sip, licking his lips at the sweet taste. His foot tapped at the floor as he tried to hurry. He grinned toothily as he found out where the young man was staying, and snorted.

"Found him," he said, snapping his nailed fingers. "Like a boss." He reached for the coffee, and took another long drink. Zarchin pulled the mug from his mouth, and let out a pleased shutter. "Wow, that's some strong stuff."

There were some footsteps from the hallway, and Zarchin's ears perked to the sound. He quickly darted upward, becoming a Pidove to fly to the vents, and then into a Joltik to hide away with in the air conditioners. The same man entered the room again, and stared at the screen in confusion (Zarchin kind of wished that he had clicked off that screen).

"I never had this up," he said in a whisper, staring at the screen.

He merely shrugged his shoulder, clicked off the window, and took a seat in his chair. He reached for his mug of coffee, and tried to take a drink, only to notice that there was no coffee left in it. Zarchin let of a dark chuckle as the man stared confusingly at his now empty mug.

"What happened to my coffee?" he cried, standing up from his chair.

He ran from his room, screaming the same question and demanding to know why his coffee had been drunk. Zarchin chuckled to himself again, rubbing his little pointed tips together as if they were his hands.

"I am horrible," he snickered to himself. "Oh yes I am. And who's the badass? Oh, yeah, me." Zarchin lowered himself onto all fours, and scuttled away from the vent. "Time to see Cilan."

* * *

><p>"<em>Humans are genetically created so that they can be perfect. Let's face it: nature didn't do things correctly."<em>

* * *

><p>A huddled mass lay in tangled in warm bed sheets. Cilan had not left his hotel bedroom in days. He had not eaten, and the only time he would leave his bed was to go to the bathroom to relieve himself, eat the small portions of food that he did allow himself to consume, and that was just about it. Pansage shuffled about on the floor, an apple clutched in his mouth as he hurried over to his human. He leapt up, cushioning himself on the bed. His human did not budge. Pansage took the apple from his mouth with his large paw, and he frowned. He took a bite from the large red fruit, slowly chewing on the piece that was becoming drenched in his saliva. Pansage rested his paw on the mass underneath the bed sheets, frowning still. Cilan had barely spoken to him. However, he understood just fine. He needed to be alone sometimes. Cilan was wrapped the blankets in his bed, blankly staring at the wall before him. His voice felt raw and highly unused.<p>

"Pansage pan pan," the Pokémon said in a low voice.

Cilan looked at his Pokémon, and offered him a soft smile. "Hey," he breathed softly. "How are you?"

"Pansage pan pan," the Pokémon said, his lithe tail twitching.

"Good," Cilan said, reaching over to ruffle the top of Pansage's head. His hand dropped to the mattress with a _thuwmp_, and he let out a displeased sigh. "What time is it?" He turned onto his back, and glanced at the digital clock that greeted him. Six o'clock. He blinked owlishly. "Six? Wow, it's been that long? Wow." He moved his head to stare up at the ceiling. "Man . . ."

Pansage looked at him with utter concern. The little creature inched closer to his owner, and rubbed his head against Cilan's shoulder. The human looked at his little Pokémon, and gave him a tired smile.

"Hey," he whispered. "C'mere."

Pansage climbed onto Cilan's flat breast as the human draped his arms over the little grass monkey, hugging him tightly, but not too tightly. Cilan was numb from the tip of his head all the way down to the tips of his toes. It had been days since his little family was taken from him, and it still felt like none of it was real—that this was all just a bad, gut-wrenching dream. Absentmindedly, he stoked Pansage's tuft of leaves, and watched how they flickered without moving. The hallucinations were back. Cilan groaned, and dropped his head to the pillow.

"Not again . . ."

Pansage lifted his head slightly from the flat plains of Cilan's chest, and stared at the young man's sleek face. He remained silent as his human rubbed circles with his fingertips in the fur of the Pokémon. Pansage nuzzled into the warmth that the body offered.

_SLAM!_

Cilan jolted practically out of his skin as he leapt upward, clutching Pansage as he went. The little grass monkey let out a squeal of surprise. The human turned his head to the window, and saw a Pidove plastered against the glass. He knew that there were no wild Pidoves anywhere in Unova, so there was only one logical choice as to what—or who—the Pidove squished against the glass was.

"Zarchin?" Cilan called.

The Pidove twitched subtly, and looked directly at the human boy. "Hey, kid," he grunted out, pealing himself from the hard glass. "Let me in."

Cilan stumbled from the covers of his bed, approaching the window, and opened it. Zarchin zipped inside, landing on a back's back piece, and wheezed. "Damn, that hurt," he said, rubbing his wing against his head. He looked at the human, and shuttered his feathers. "Hey, you been in bed all day?"

"For the last few days," Cilan answered in monotone. "How are you, Zarchin?"

"Well, I recently slammed into a plate glass window," he answered ruefully. "Other than that, I'm perky. Iris was wondering about you."

Cilan's eyes perked upward in surprise, and he stared at the Pidove-shaped Zarchin. "Really? Is she worried?" he asked, his voice soft.

"Well, yeah, kid," Zarchin said, shrugging his wings. "You're her friend, am I not right?"

Cilan's eyes flickered to the floor, and he rubbed at his arm. "Yes, yeah," he said, nodding his head. "And she is mine."

Zarchin looked at the human, blinking his eyes slowly. "Right," he said, shifting from foot to foot. "How are you holding up, kid?"

"Well, I've been locked up in this room for days," Cilan answered, offering his arm to his Pokémon, who grabbed a hold of it, and scaled up to rest on Cilan's shoulder. "This is the first time that I've been out of my bed for more than three minutes."

And apparently, the boy had not bathed in a while as well—the stink was pure body odor. It was obvious that Cilan and Pansage could not have smelt it because they had grown used to the stench. Zarchin shifted from foot to foot, and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Well, kid, take your time," Zarchin said, thrusting out his wing from side to side. "You're dealing with a lot right now, and I'm sorry for what's happened."

Cilan was voiceless.

"Listen, just relax, take your time healing, and I'll go talk to the bosses back at home," Zarchin said, stretching his wings. "I'll explain the recent events, and I'll give you and Iris a month to prepare. Got it?"

"Yes, thank you," Cilan said.

"Right. See ya, Cilan," Zarchin stated, taking flight, and zipped out of the window.

Cilan watched the Pokémon disappear in the distance, and exhaled deeply through his nostrils. Pansage nuzzled lovingly against the human, who returned the love with soft, short pets on the tuft of leaves.

"Back to bed," he whispered, turning towards the mattress, and flopped carelessly on it.

Pansage jumped onto the covers, sitting down, and stroked Cilan's messy, unkempt hair with his fat paw.

* * *

><p>"<em>What is love-making?"<em>

"_A disgusting act that people used to do in the past?"_

"_And pregnancy?"_

"_Ugh, even more revolting. Pregnancy is what comes from love-making. Two people must have sex, or 'make love,' in order to have a pregnancy. And when the woman gets pregnant, a baby grows inside of her."_

"_How disgusting. And people used to do this?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Disgusting."_


	19. Little book

**Hey! I'm back. Missed me?**

**Shit gets more fucked up after this chapter. Just warning ya.**

* * *

><p>Little book<p>

XIX

Cilan felt the warm water patter against his naked skin. He stood in the shower, the shower head spouting water quickly and precisely. His head was hung, hair matted to his slender face and neck, and water rolled off his skin. It felt good to have a shower. It had been a week and a half since the suicide of his brother Cress and Chili being whisked away from him, and now he could finally return home. It was no longer a crime scene—it was just an empty room waiting for him to return.

The young man shook his head, little beads of water flying off his body, and onto the tile and curtain around him. His hand reached across, grabbing the tiny bottle of white shampoo, and poured it all into his palm. He rubbed it together, and caressed it into his thick locks of hair. It started to foam, and the water rushed over his cranium, washing away the soap. He swallowed thickly, lifting his head up, and he felt the bones in his neck crack. Cilan exhaled deeply, allowing the water to hit his face fully. His eyes were closed, and he could feel the dirt from his body wash away. He moistened his lips, swallowed thickly, and slowly opened his eyes as his head dropped downwards.

"Okay," he breathed, hands reaching for the knobs on the wall.

He turned off the shower, hot water ceasing from hitting his body, and the coolness of the air pouring in from the open window washed over his dampened back. Steam rose from the wet tile floor and from his hot body, rising upwards until it vanished before it reached the ceiling. He stood there for a moment, lost in his thoughts. He chewed on his lower lip, rubbing the palms of his hands against his elbows, and sighed deeply.

He heard the door creak, and the sound of little feet pitter-pattering on the tile floor below. He glanced over, noticing his Pansage glancing up at him, worry struck across his little face. Cilan forced a smile upon his lips, and pulled back the curtain.

"Hello, Pansage," he greeted with a tired voice.

"Sage pan pansage," the Pokémon said, jumping carefully up onto the sink, hoping to get a better look at his owner's face.

Cilan chuckled, reaching across to pat the top of the Pokemon's head, dampening the silky soft fur with the wetness on his palm. "I'm okay," he said, stepping out of the shower, only to pause halfway. He turned to his only Pokémon, and his smile broadened. "Do you want to bathe?"

The little grass monkey perked up, his lithe tail wagging from side to side merrily. "Pansage pan!" he said, a smile forming on his furry face.

Cilan laughed lightly, reaching over to grab his Pokemon gently, and placed the little grass monkey onto the already wet floor.

"Okay," Cilan said. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"Pan!"

Cilan chuckled again, standing up to grab a slender bottle of soap, and he then crouched back down to Pansage's level. He turned on the water, warm water gushing out, and the little Pokémon chirped in glee. Cilan smiled as he emptied the little bottle of soap into his palm, and he started to rub it into the fur thoroughly. Pansage seemed to swoon at the gentle touches and caresses of his human owner, and all the while he kept his eyes closed so that the soapy substance would not get into his eyes. Cilan leaned in, staring at his Pokémon fondly.

"You like that?" he asked gently.

"Pansage pan," the Pansage answered in return.

"Good," Cilan responded. "Good."

His slender fingers ran through thick fur, all the while soap ran down said fingers and dripped off to land in wet pools on the tile. Cilan's smile soon faded as his hands dropped from his Pokemon's course fur, and he hung his head. Pansage opened his eyes, blinking carefully so that the soap would not get into his eyes, he whipped around, staring up at his owner, who was trembling and trying to repress his tears. Pansage placed a single paw to Cilan's kneecap, and frowned.

"Pansage," he breathed.

Cilan choked back the tears that were threatening to fall. "I—I miss t-them," he whimpered out, hands gripping his shoulders tightly. "I m-m-miss them, Pansage!" He gagged, and tears fell from his face and to the floor.

Pansage leapt into his owner's arms, his fat paw rubbing Cilan's back soothingly as he allowed him to cry his eyes out.

It was so hard to live when your life was so shattered.

* * *

><p>"He's back!"<p>

"What? Wait, who?"

"That Cilan kid," the voice answered swiftly.

That was all Iris needed to hear. She snapped her head up, standing to her feet quickly, and erected her body to the fullest of her height. Her long locks of hair swayed from the movement, and she let out a surprised gasp.

"Cilan," she breathed.

Axew, who was snuggled tightly in her thick mass of hair, popped out, his little claws resting against her shoulder, and his gaze followed hers.

"Axew," he said in a whisper.

Iris felt a smile crease at the corners of her lips. "He's back," she said, dropping the bucket onto the floor without a care in the world. She rushed from the stables, and poked her head out from the doorway, catching his gaze.

He looked horrible. Even though what he was wearing looked as sharp as ever, it was his body posture and face. He was slightly hunched over, Pansage gripping his slumped shoulders, and there were dark circles around his eyes. Iris had caught his attention, and he forced a mild smile on his lips. He gave a small wave of his hand, and he started to approach her. Iris left the open stables, joining him for the first time in so long.

"Hey, Cilan," she greeted softly, reaching out to grab his slender hands.

"Hello, Iris," he greeted in return, giving her hands a gentle squeeze. "How have you been?"

"Fine," she answered quickly. "I'm more worried about you. Are . . . are you okay?"

Cilan shook his head, and chuckled. However, it was a dry, humorless chuckle. "Well, I'll be just fine," he stated, shrugging his shoulders. "Don't worry; I had some time to myself and I used that time to heal. I'll be just fine."

Pansage jumped from his shoulders, meeting Axew on the ground, where they nuzzled their muzzles and rubbed lovingly against each other. Iris gave Cilan's hands another firm squeeze before releasing them, and her hands fell to her sides.

"Okay, good," she said, reaching up to rub at the back of her head. "Well, I'm glad that you're out of that hotel room. Are you going back to your home?"

"Oh, yes, I got cleared to do so."

"Okay, good," she repeated, biting her lower lip. "Well, it's nice to have you back."

Cilan smiled lightly in return. "It's good to be back," he said, giving a slow nod of his head. "And it's good to see you again, Iris."

She blinked, feeling her cheeks turn warm, and she rubbed her open palm against the hem of her dress. "Yeah," Iris mumbled softly. "You too."

He blinked, staring at her with wide eyes before they softened and his smile broadened. Iris cleared her throat, and reached for his arm, tugging him gently along. "C'mon, let's go do some work before the patrol finds us loitering," she mumbled, eyes darting from left to right in a suspicious way.

Cilan chuckled. "Will do, will do," he said lowly.

* * *

><p>"<em>Man, this kid's just gettin' screwed left an' right!"<em>

_Zarchin twitched, staring at the foursome before him. Terrakion snorted, digging his foot into the hard ground below him. Cobalion sighed deeply, hanging his regal head and shook it mildly back and forth. "The poor child," he said in a low tone. "He must've been devastated."_

"_Well, of course," Virizion said, upper lip twitching. "His brother committed suicide. How would you be?"_

_Keldeo frowned, furry brows furrowing. "Why was his brother so depressed?" he demanded softly. "I don't think I remember the reason."_

"_He worked with children, sir," Zarchin answered swiftly. "Ones that were . . . 'different' than that of the normal children."_

_Realization dawned upon the foursome._

"_So, he must've seen what happened to those who did not go along with the program," Terrakion growled lowly._

"_It could not have been helped," Cobalion said. "All we can do now is save Iris and Cilan."_

"_But things are going way too slow," Keldeo said quickly. "They should have been rescued by now."_

"_You are completely correct, Keldeo," Cobalion said, turning to the youngest of the four. "But you forget—the Authority is still searching for his son. We must be careful of that."_

_Keldeo hung his head, a stern frown on his face. Zarchin stood in the centre of the room, twitching every so often, and he felt a completing need to find N. He turned up, bowing deeply, his claw to his chest and his head low._

"_Sirs, if I may ask, where is N?" he asked, eyes directly on the leader._

_Cobalion blinked, staring at the fox Pokémon. "Why, whatever for?" he inquired back._

"_I wish to see him, if that is okay with the four of you," he answered. "I know that he is not completely well." He tapped at his temple to explain the point._

"_Well, Virizion has been taking good care of him," Cobalion said coolly. "And we know of what the Authority had done to him throughout his lifetime." He frowned, eyes narrowing in disgust. "But, we are having Molly care for him. He is in safe hands."_

"_I know, but I wish to see him."_

_Cobalion blinked. Zarchin looked exceedingly determined to see the human boy. His thick tail shivered as it swayed back and forth lazily, and his eyes were dark orbs in his skull. He knew of the fox Pokémon's past life—how he ran for safety to escape the humans that wanted to kill and serve him as food to the Community that he used to live in. He used to have a human before he was taken away to be slaughtered. However, Zarchin never mentioned who the human was; just only the fact that he had a human owner, and he only got to live with him for a year. Perhaps, N was Zarchin's old human owner. It was a long shot, but . . ._

"_Okay, you may see him," Cobalion said, nodding his head slowly. "When you are needed, we will call for you. Thank you for all your work."_

"_Of course, sir."_

"_He is in the room—his room," Virizion stated. "In the lower level; the furthest room in the hallway. Understand?"_

"_Yes, sir."_

"_Very well. Tell him I said 'hi.'"_

* * *

><p>The room was like it always was.<p>

Except, there were no brothers or their Pokémon. The floor looked as if it had been vacuumed, the windows were buffed and cleaned, the beds were made, and the room looked as perfect as perfect could be. Cilan's gaze slowly moved across the small room, drinking in the sights of it. Pansage jumped onto one of the three beds, staring at the human with a frown and a cock of the head. Cilan glanced over at his Pokémon, smiled, and patted the top of the grass monkey's tuft. He moved across, passing his suitcase that rested at its side on the floor, and flopped onto the bed nearest to him. He groaned in exasperation, gripping the bed sheets below him with shaking fists. Pansage approached him, plopping next to him, and placed a fat paw on his shoulder.

"Good to be home, Pansage," Cilan said softly.

"Pansage pan . . ."

"An empty home . . . but home is home."

Pansage stared at his human owner with a sad face.

Cilan perked his head up slightly, his bright eyes meeting with Pansage's. "It was nice to see Axew and Iris, am I correct?" he asked, a small smile creasing his lips.

"Pan," he said perkily, his tail thrashing from left to right in glee.

Cilan chuckled, hand reaching over to pull Pansage close to him. "Good, good," he said, giving his Pokémon a light squeeze. "I was very happy to see them as well."

Pansage nuzzled against the warmth of his human owner, enjoying every moment, every second of it. The little grass Pokémon licked his owner's chin sweetly, purring soothingly in the middle of his chest and throat, and it filled the room. Cilan pressed his body fully into the comfort of his mattress, and he felt something hard. He blinked, pulling back, and then rested down again, feeling the hardness once more. It was faint, but it was there.

"What the . . .?"

He sat up, Pansage scuttling away, sitting at the edge of the bed, watching with curiosity as Cilan moved his hands across the mattress with fervor. His sensitive fingertips touched something hard beneath the layers of thick fabric. He blinked, tracing the form under it. He shifted backwards, digging his hands to rip away the quilt, cover, and thin sheet, reaching the covered mattress. His hands went forward, feeling the rectangular object underneath the layers. It was no longer faint. Cilan pulled the coversheets, revealing a naked mattress, and his hand felt the rectangular obstruction not too far below. Cilan cocked his head, staring at his bed. This, whatever it was, was not there before. Pansage went to his owner's side, staring where he was as well.

"What on Earth?" Cilan breathed. "What is this?"

"Pansage?" the grass Pokémon offered, lithe tail twitching.

Cilan reached out, noticing that there were flaps of fabric were loose, and he pulled them back; peeling them away like one would peel back an orange's skin to reveal the delicious edible parts. Cilan continued until he saw something that surprised him. Beneath all these layers of fabric, there was a book. It was a black book—a little black book. The young man reached into the mattress, pulling out the miniature book, and stared at the cover. It reflected the light from the stark black cover, and it looked like a stone, by the way it shimmered.

"What is this?" Cilan asked, staring at the book before turning to look at his Pokémon.

"Pansage pan," the Pokémon answered, reaching out to touch the book with his fat paw.

Cilan flipped it over in his hands, staring at the back cover before turning it over once more to stare at the front. He opened the front cover, and a small slip of paper fluttered out and rested on the bed. Cilan reached down, picking up the scrap of paper, and read the words on it.

"_Cilan, I know that I will die. I know it. I can't stand it anymore. I'm sorry that I will no longer be here with you, and I know Chili will be taken. You are all that is left of our little family. I leave you this, my diary, for you should know what is going on in our country. Our country is evil, Cilan. We have been spoon-fed lies ever since our first breath and I may not know everything that is going on, but what I do know is that my job is horrendous. Please, no matter how disturbing the material matter is, please keep reading. You must know._

"_Your brother, Cress._

"_I love you, remember that."_

Cilan trembled, staring at the slip of paper, and forced back the tears. He dropped the paper piece, and opened the cover to read the first page, preparing for whatever it was that was written on the page.


	20. Lies

Lies

XX

_Day 1_

_I am very excited. I finally get to help children that cannot fit in with normal society. This is going to be great! I can't wait! I get to help people!_

* * *

><p><em>Day 2<em>

_I am learning the basics about the brain. Such a complex organ, and we have to learn it so fast. I'm not sure why, but that's what we have to do. Strange, but this is my job, and I must do it properly. I must continue to study._

* * *

><p><em>Day 3<em>

_We dissected a brain of a Deerling and an already dead human. The Deerling was sick, so it had to be killed so it would not sicken the others. The human . . . they never mentioned where they got that from. Oh, well, probably from some sick man or woman, or perhaps some old person that donated their bodies to science. Either way . . ._

* * *

><p><em>Day 4<em>

_We studied the differences between the Pokémon brain and the human brain. Very similar, but also very different; certain areas of the human brain are more complex than a Pokémon's, but what can you expect—we are the superior species. Nothing else, other than that._

* * *

><p><em>Day 5<em>

_Oh, man, exam in a few days. Shit, I need to study._

* * *

><p><em>Day 6<em>

_Study, study, study. That was basically the day._

* * *

><p><em>Day 7 <em>

_The test was today. I have a good feeling about it._

* * *

><p><em>Day 8<em>

_I passed with flying colours. I'm going to now work with real humans with problems. I start tomorrow. Perhaps they can enlighten me about what's wrong with Chili._

* * *

><p><em>Day 9<em>

_Oh, God, I feel sick inside. How the doctors treat these people. I can't even describe my anger and confusion. They live in cells—unclean ones at that—hungry and they always wear that look of pure horror. They look like frightened children. I want to wretch._

* * *

><p><em>Day 10<em>

_They starve these people. They do tests on them. One man's flesh was rotting off this skin because scientists from another division are testing something on him. He lives in a glass enclosure, separate from the rest. I have no idea what his name is. I'm going to find out._

* * *

><p><em>Day 11<em>

_The man's name, the one that's in the cell, is Alder._

* * *

><p><em>Day 12<em>

_I was sworn to secrecy today. If I tell anyone about the things I've been seeing, they will kill me. I'm scared._

* * *

><p><em>Day 13<em>

_I spoke to Alder today. He doesn't want to talk to me. Who can blame him? He doesn't trust me. He's balding now. Hair litters the floor he sits on. I can make a rug out of it if I wanted to. I feel so sorry for him. What did he ever do to anyone?_

* * *

><p><em>Day 14<em>

_I researched Alder's background. He comes from another Community far away. They shipped him here because he was being a "danger" to society, and that he reached his third strike. I feel sick inside. Is this what happens to those who don't go along? They become test subjects._

* * *

><p><em>Day 15<em>

_I returned to Alder today, and spoke with him. He did not respond. I figured he wouldn't._

* * *

><p><em>Day 16<em>

_I spoke to Alder today. Nothing._

* * *

><p><em>Day 17<em>

_Spoke to Alder again. Nothing, again._

* * *

><p><em>Day 18<em>

_I—words can't describe._

_Today I saw the doctors take two ice picks, and shove them into the tear-ducts of a girl's eyes. She was out, limp in her chair that she was strapped to. I nearly lost my lunch. This is what "fixing" means. They said they were going to "fix" her._

_This is what they did to Chili._

_I cried tonight, alone in the bathtub. I tried to be silent, but Panpour heard me. I just continued to cry._

* * *

><p><em>Day 19<em>

_I hate them! I hate those bastards! I hate them all!_

* * *

><p><em>Day 20<em>

_Returned to Adler today to clear my head a bit. He smiled at me. He actually responded to me. He responded to me._

* * *

><p><em>Day 21<em>

_I cried again today. They "fixed" a nine-year-old boy today. I had to watch to learn. It was horrible._

* * *

><p><em>Day 22<em>

_Fuck them. Fuck them all._

* * *

><p><em>Day 23<em>

_Spoke to Alder today. He listened to me as I spoke. I gave him a bagel. He seemed to enjoy it. I don't think he had real food in a really long time. It's the least I could do for him._

* * *

><p><em>Day 24<em>

_Watched another person being "fixed." I had to leave the room so I could vomit. I was sent home early to rest._

_I really do hate them._

* * *

><p><em>Day 25<em>

_Day off. Thank God._

* * *

><p><em>Day 26<em>

_They're not helping people. They're making them emotionless so they won't question. That's what they're doing! I can feel it._

* * *

><p><em>Day 27<em>

_The Authority is hiding something. Something is very wrong with the country we live in._

* * *

><p><em>Day 28<em>

_Spoke to Alder today. He looks very sick. His hair's all gone, and his skin is very raw looking. He didn't want to talk today, so I let him sleep._

* * *

><p><em>Day 29<em>

_Watched another person get "fixed." I'm numb inside with anger._

* * *

><p><em>Day 30<em>

_Spoke to Alder today. His voice is raspy, and it is hard for me to understand him. He is very sick. His health is growing worse and worse. I'm horribly afraid for him._

* * *

><p><em>Day 31<em>

_Remember that human brain we students dissected some time back? I learned that a man by the name of Grimsley (Grimsley something) donated a brain to this facility. I looked at his picture. He looked rather young and healthy to be sick._

* * *

><p><em>Day 32<em>

_Spoke to Alder today. He barely moved. I'm very worried about him. I talked to the doctors, and they won't do anything for him. They say I should leave him alone. But I can't._

* * *

><p><em>Day 33<em>

_Today I had to "fix" a rowdy Deerling. I had to stick two ice picks into the thing's tear ducts, and I watched as it stopped moving and turned into a vegetable. I feel like a monster. What did he ever do to anyone?_

* * *

><p><em>Day 34<em>

_Alder died today. I cried. I really liked him. He seemed to be a good man, and now he is dead._

* * *

><p><em>Day 35<em>

_I heard that they set Alder's body on fire today, and threw the ashes into the garbage. They literally threw him away like he was trash. I wanted to scream, but I bit my tongue. But what they did was horrible._

* * *

><p><em>Day 36<em>

_I was forced to perform a "fixing" on a child. A little girl with pigtails and an adorable round face. They strapped her to the table, crying, whimpering, and I had to stick those ice picks into her eye ducts. I could feel my body lurching and tears sprung to my eyes. They all looked at me like I was crazy, and I had to run. Run far and fast. I ran from the room, crying, and whimpering all the way._

_I want to die._


	21. No

**For Gyarados' Rage. :) I updated soon as I could for you!**

* * *

><p>No<p>

XXI

_Zarchin stared at the wood door before him, and gently raked his claws over the fur of his arm. This was his old human owner, so why was he so scared. Maybe it was because he feared that his human would no longer recognize him, or worse, completely forgot about him. The creature was anxious and utterly nervous about the outcome, and he waited with bated breath. He waited until a voice called from behind the door:_

"_Come in."_

_He let out the deep breath he had been holding, and Zarchin opened the door, slipping in to a warm underground room. N turned up, a smile on his face, and his expression, seeing the Pokémon, changed into surprise. "Oh, hello," he said. "I thought you were Virizion."_

_Zarchin smiled, and softly closed the door. "No, sorry to disappoint, but I am Zarchin."_

"_Yes, you work for the heads."_

_Zarchin nodded, and moved closer to the human, lowering himself into a crouch. "So, kid, how are you holding up?" he asked._

_N, who was on the floor leaning against his cot, let out a deep sigh. "I'm okay," he said softly, and he turned his head to look away from the Pokémon. "Just thinking."_

_Zarchin looked over his human, and realized how much he had really changed. His face had become more narrow and defined, his body taller and thinner, and his hair wilder, longer, and thicker. He had changed, too: he had become stronger and wiser. Unable to control it anymore, he laid a claw to the human's shoulder, causing him to look at the Pokémon._

"_Natural, it is __**me**__."_

_N stared long and hard for a moment before realization struck him, causing his eyes to widen and his mouth to fall open. Memories of a little bouncing Zoura flooded his mind: them playing on a colourful floor with little prints of clouds and rainbows, them laying together in mirth—them always together in that little room. Then the day when his little friend was taken from him; the Zoura screaming, biting and scratching in fear, and he crying. That was the day his father did things to him, and wouldn't stop—carrying it on for years after that. N shifted, staring at the Zorak, who was silent._

"_Zoura?"_

_He had remembered, and Zarchin smiled._

"_Hello."_

_N didn't say anything more; he allowed his actions to speak for themselves: he launched himself into his old friend's waiting, caste-loving arms, and cried in happiness, allowing the wetness to stain his hot red flesh. Zarchin could only return the affection upon the same way._

* * *

><p>Cilan dropped the book he was holding.<p>

His hands trembled, sweat beading along his forehead and rolled down his cheeks, and his breathing was extremely shaky. Pansage watched, confused by his owner's actions, and his lithe tail twitched in anxiety. Cilan stood up, hands just by the sides of his head, and his eyes wide.

"Oh, God, Oh, Lord," he grumbled, slouching forward until his head passed his knees.

The little grass monkey watched, confused and a little frightened. Cilan shivered as if he had his clothing ripped off his body and he was thrown out into a cold area, naked and alone. Pansage swallowed thickly, tail trembling, and watched.

"This can't be happening," he rasped out.

Cilan kicked the horrid book across the room, and treated it as if it were diseased or something akin to that. Pansage leapt up at the sharp reaction, not really wondering if his human was okay. The little grass monkey nudging his human's shaking arm.

"Pansage? Pan pan?"

Cilan turned to his Pokémon, eyes wide with pure horror, and they only just started to water like a waterfall. His entire life was a lie. Starting from the second he was born—everything he knew was all a grand fabrication. Nothing was real here, and he was just a pawn, as was everyone else. Puppets! Just little toys. Oh, Lord, how could this be?

"This c-can't be happening," he stated, voice shaking, and he gripped his Pokémon. "T-tell me this c-can't be happening!"

Pansage didn't know what to do; he just reached up with his fat paw, and wiped away a tear that rolled down his human's face. Cilan pulled him close, hugging him tight, as he rocked in place. After what appeared to be five minutes, Pansage squirmed from his human's vice grip, leapt down from his warm lap, onto the floor he went, and he snatched up the book, offering it to his human. Cilan stared at the simple book, eyes wild and wet. He took it, and rushed back to where he found it, trying to forget its existence. But like a heartbeat, it thumped its way into his thoughts and dreams, causing him to have a restless night sleep.

* * *

><p>"Cilan, you look terrible."<p>

Dark bags under his eyes, hair a little stiff and dead, and his face blank of all emotion—he blinked, staring down at the nervous Iris and her little Axew, who was now poking out of her thick mass of hair, and staring at the other human with a worried look. Pansage looked at his human with equal worry, and Cilan forced a smile on his face. He couldn't tell Iris what his brother wrote, not yet, anyways.

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"You barely spoke to me today."

There were stares from others in the background, noticing his disheveled appearance. Cilan frowned, but continued to nod his head. "Yes, Iris, do not worry," he said, placing his hand to her shoulder. The workday was over for today, and he just wanted to go home and try to get a goodnight's sleep, because, after all, he had a dinner date with Burgundy. "You have to go. Don't you have a date with Black?"

She narrowed her eyes at the mentioning of her husband. "Yeah," she hissed, standing up to smooth out her dress. "I don't wanna."

"But you must."

"I know that."

Axew sunk back into her mass of purple hair, and Iris let out a deep, anxious sigh. "I'm sorry," she muttered, turning to stare at her dear friend. "I just don't feel like seeing him today."

Cilan nodded in his understanding for her plight.

"Well, I've gotta go."

Cilan turned up to stare at her, and nodded his head. "Yes, I know," he said, suddenly remembering their restrictions from each other. "Goodbye."

"See ya," she said, giving a little wave of her hand.

Cilan returned the wave as he watched his dear friend leave. He let out a sigh.

* * *

><p>He stared at where he had returned the book, glaring at the bed as if it were the most evil thing he had ever set his eyes upon. Pansage was silent, just looking at his human as his tail lazily trashed from side to side. He could easily sense that his human was not feeling right—it was very obvious on his face and body language. Cilan glanced at his Pokémon, frowning, and attentively reached over to give him a consulting pat of friendship. Pansage responded warmly, rubbing his head against the human's palm, both drenched in platonic affection for each other. Cilan stared out of his window, that stern flat line of his lips still etched upon his face, and he let out a deep sigh.<p>

Just another day waiting for Zarchin.

* * *

><p>He stored food in a cardboard box in his closet. Cilan and his Pansage had collected food in late hours of the night, after long shifts for a few days now, and every day, he would add a single item (or more if he was lucky) to his slowly growing collection. Today it was a single bottle of water, also, to his luck, a single candy bar. It was some nut bar slathered with honey that kept it all glued together. Cilan glanced over his collection: five bottles of water, ten power bars, six candy bars, and a single bottle of berry juice. He knew he needed more. And, again, he would collect more food. But today he couldn't search for food, for he had a date with his wife.<p>

He didn't want to, but he had to.

* * *

><p>"Cilan, are you alright?"<p>

Cilan glanced up to look at his wife, who had a worried expression upon her features. Her Deerling sat obediently at her side, and glanced up to Cilan, only to turn away with disinterest. They were having dinner at this lovely restaurant, and as far as the eye could see were people. Wives with their husbands, a group of friends, or the young married couples like them—those who still had their Pokémon by their sides.

"Fine," Cilan answered as he took a bite from his meal.

Pansage glanced up at his human for a brief moment before returning to his feast.

"You're thinking about your brothers?"

Cilan gave her an icy stare, and she looked away in shame, finding sudden interest in her meal. It was silent at their table, but in the background it was noisy with chatter and the clattering of silverware on plates. He wondered how Iris was doing.

"But . . . you are okay, right?"

He glanced at her, and she looked at him expectantly.

"Yes," he answered. "I am fine."

Burgundy was silent, but she did not question her odd husband. Pansage ate in the awkward silence, and Deerling was ignoring everything that was going on.

* * *

><p>Cilan glared at the book that he had retrieved from the inside of the bed. He had not touched it for days now, but for some reason, he wanted to see it. He wanted to read the rest of it well, part of him did. The other part of him wanted nothing to do with it. The other half wanted to set it on fire for its evil writings of the uncomfortable, ugly truth. Cilan scrapped his fingernails against his leg's warm flesh, glaring at the book, debating whether or not he should read the rest of it. Pansage stared at his human, his lithe tail curled around his feet, and he was completely silent.<p>

The air was stale, and both beings were breathing heavily.

Cilan then grabbed the book in his shaking hands, and opened it.


	22. More

**MOAR DEPRESSING SHIT. LOL. I'm a terrible person.**

* * *

><p>More<p>

XXII

_Day 37_

_I can't talk today. Sorry._

* * *

><p><em>Day 38<em>

_That little girl with the pigtails . . . Um, I went to check up on her condition. She's dead inside. She won't respond to anything anymore. She's a zombie. I feel so sick inside._

* * *

><p><em>Day 39<em>

_I had to perform another "fixing" on another child. This time a boy. He reminded me of Chili—before and after._

* * *

><p><em>Day 40<em>

_Day off today. I'm grateful. I didn't feel like going in for work today._

* * *

><p><em>Day 41<em>

_I can see that Cilan is very worried about me. I try to keep upbeat, but it is very difficult._

* * *

><p><em>Day 42<em>

_Locked myself in the bathroom today when I returned home. Chili or Cilan aren't home yet._

* * *

><p><em>Day 43<em>

_Rumor has it that Cilan has been with this girl with long hair and an Axew. I wonder who she is._

* * *

><p><em>Day 44<em>

_Panpour is worried about me. When I come home I can see that he's worried about me. I try to smile at him and I gently pet his head. He's not convinced._

* * *

><p><em>Day 45<em>

_Work today was "normal." We have this particularly rowdy child that refuses to listen to his parents. Parents. I wonder where mine are. Wait. Do I have any at all?_

* * *

><p><em>Day 46<em>

_The child I wrote about earlier is very violent. He likes to hit, kick, and bite anyone that gets in his way. He bit me today, and man, does it hurt. I think I'll have a mark on my leg for a long while. He sure is a wild child, that's for sure. They're going to fix him soon. I just know it._

* * *

><p><em>Day 47<em>

_They fixed him . . ._

_But he died. Since I'm the new guy around here, I have to inform the parents tomorrow. I'm dreading it._

_No one would tell me how he died. They said he just died during the procedure. I don't think it's that simple. They did something to him. I can feel it in my bones._

* * *

><p><em>Day 48<em>

_I had to tell the parents that their son died. The wife cried and the father remained very, ungodly stoic. It pained me to tell them, but I am rather confused and worried out the father's reaction. He didn't so much as blink._

_And why does he look so familiar?_

* * *

><p><em>Day 49<em>

_I heard that Cilan is going to have a wife assigned to him. Soon I'll be next._

* * *

><p><em>Day 50<em>

_Cilan doesn't like his new wife. No surprise._

* * *

><p><em>Day 51<em>

_I can't take much more of this!_

* * *

><p><em>Day 52<em>

_I feel sick every time I enter that building. My stomach knots up, my head swims, and I feel like I need to throw up. It is a terrible feeling, and I just wish that it would cease to exist. Or, maybe, that I cease to exist._

_I shouldn't be thinking like that._

* * *

><p><em>Day 53<em>

_Death's looking mighty good now._

_Why did I just write that?_

* * *

><p><em>Day 54<em>

_I hate everything. My life, my job. God, smite me now._

* * *

><p><em>Day 55<em>

_Work was normal. There, surprisingly, wasn't any "fixings" happening. I'm happy about that, but I'm finding other things. Remember that Grimsley fella that donated his brain to this studio. I heard that he was causing trouble in his home Community. Oh, God, please don't let it be what I think it is._

* * *

><p><em>Day 56<em>

_I heard that Cilan got in trouble. I wonder why._

* * *

><p><em>Day 57<em>

_I can't take this anymore._

* * *

><p><em>Day 58<em>

_I wonder where I can find some rope around here. A tool store? They won't think much of it if I bought a foot of rope. I have money—they won't care._

* * *

><p><em>Day 59<em>

_I think I'm going to do it._

* * *

><p><em>Day 60<em>

_Goodbye._

_Your life, everything you know—it is all lies._


	23. Time

**I MISSED YOU ALL SO MUCH.**

* * *

><p>Time<p>

XXIII

"_It's time for me to go."_

"_Back to the Community?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Are you sure?"_

"_I've given Iris and Cilan enough time," Zarchin said. "I must help them before all hell breaks loose."_

_N frowned, shifting in his little dirt spot. He had spent nearly every waking moment with his long-departed friend, just enjoying every waking moment. But now things were going to get a little scary, and he was worried. There was talk—war. The Pokémon were going to strike all Communities in this country. Having long been confined to being underground, everything was put into place. Forty years of work, and now there was going to be action._

"_They're coming here, right?" N asked._

"_Of course," Zarchin said, waving his claws in a dismissive manner. "These underground tunnels stretch for miles—how do you think I've been getting to them so easily without being noticed? There's an opening covered not too far from the Community that Iris and Cilan reside in—in the Wastelands, and that's how I get back and forth."_

"_I thought you went up," N stated, pointing upwards to the dirt ceiling._

"_Hardly—I might be noticed. Only when I have to."_

_N nodded his head, which he soon hung. He stared at his hands, which were starting to tremble. Zarchin reached over, the tips of his sharp claws pressed gently to his skin._

"_N? You okay?"_

_The human shook his head. "No, I'm worried," he whispered. "What if you get killed? What if something bad happens?"_

"_Bad things already happen, all over the world," Zarchin stated, withdrawing his claw. "People hurt and kill each other every day without a single reason. Look at what your father did to you. Do you think you're the only one in this world that had that happen?"_

_N cleared his throat, and he reached up to firmly grip his thick locks of hair. "I just don't want anyone to die," he said softly._

"_We will try to minimize casualties as much as we can, but there are no promises," Zarchin said, his ears flicking. "War is horrible."_

_N was trying to hold back his tears, but they gushed anyways. Pools of salty water rushed from his eyes, and collected onto the dirt floor. "J-just don't die," he rasped out._

_The Zoroark let out a sad sigh. "N, I c—"_

"_Promise me!" the human shouted, voice thick and raw with emotion. "P-promise me that you will not die."_

_The Pokémon knew that he could never keep that promise. He knew that if he was to go to war that there was a probability that he would not survive. But he could see this boy's pain, and he did not want to upset him anymore than he already was. Zarchin nodded, taking the boy's hands into his claws._

"_I promise I will survive," he said._

_N thrust himself at his dear friend, engulfing him in a warm, tight embrace. Zarchin trembled, eyes widened, and his ears gave a flick of surprise. He could feel N shake, and the young man was sobbing his eyes out, matting his dark fur. Though he did not care—he wrapped his arms around him, tightening his embrace, and allowed the boy to loudly sob against him._

* * *

><p>Everything was ready; now all that Cilan had to do was wait. Time is something he had a surplus of, so it seemed. But, to him, time crawled like an infant. Where was Zarchin? He was prepared, as was Iris, and they were ready to go. The young man shuffled through his inventory, staring at all the items he had collected. More than enough—and Iris had collected food and drinks as well: they were good as gold. Pansage nudged at one of the cans with his fat paw, and Cilan pushed it away gently.<p>

"No, this is for later, you know that," he whispered harshly. Why he was whispering in such hush tones confused even him. It was just him and Pansage in their little room. But then again, he had become increasingly paranoid ever since he read his brother's journal, who, by the way, he was starting to forget. He only remembered his face—not his hair or the shape of his body, just his face. He also knew he had another brother, whose name now slipped his mind. Ashamed, Cilan did memory tricks to remind himself who they were. He could not—and would not forget them.

"Pan," his little Pokémon said in a hush tone.

Cilan pushed his treasure back into the compartment he hid them in, and closed and locked the door. He sat up, smoothing out his slacks, and glanced at himself in the mirror. He was finely dressed in a suit with bowtie and all. Why? Well, the Community had called all those who were of his age, and still had their Pokémon with them, to go downtown to the Auditorium. The reason? No one knew. The older adults did, but they would not say a word. Something "important," they said. Something "all those blooming into adults" must do. Pansage leapt onto his shoulder, and stared at his human.

"Okay, let's get this over with," Cilan muttered, reaching up to smooth back his hair. He stared at his reflection, waiting for one of those strange flashes to appear, but when it didn't, he left.

* * *

><p>"Why are we here?"<p>

"I'dunno."

"I'd like to know."

"Maybe it has something to do with our Pokémon."

"Our Pokémon?"

Cilan glanced around the crowded room filled with young people and their Pokémon. He didn't know about what to make with the scenery around him—he just hugged Pansage close and searched for his dear Iris. He soon spotted her in a corner, her Axew perched on her lap, and she was soothingly stroking him. The little dragon Pokémon perked at the sight of Pansage, wiggling his little tail and his tiny claws. Iris smiled at him, and he returned it. Shuffling over to her, he sat with her as their Pokémon spoke softly to each other.

"What do you think is going on?" he asked in a whisper.

"I don't know," she answered just as softly. "But it has to be important."

Cilan hummed in his throat, and glanced around, knowing that if they were seen together, they would be in serious trouble.

"I-I missed you," he quickly stated, earning her full attention.

Staring, she smiled at him, and nudged his hand with her own. "I missed you too," she said, her voice like silk.

He blinked his eyes slowly, and he could feel a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. That was when the chatter in the room ceased, and the lights started to dim a bit. Everyone was deathly silent—so silent that the footsteps of a heavy body could each throughout the entire room. A man, fat and short, approached the podium, and smiled at the audience.

"Welcome, and thank you all for coming," he said, opening his arms out. "Now, you were all brought here for a reason you do not know. Now, that you are here, we can now tell you. As you grow up, there are certain things that one must leave behind in order to perform well in society. You left behind your families to start your new life, and now there is one more thing you must leave behind as well. Something that has been with you your whole life; that has been by your side for so very long. Yes, I'm talking about your Pokémon. Today is the day that you must let them go."

* * *

><p>"<em>Are the troops being prepared?"<em>

"_Yes, sir. The troops are being readied for battle."_

"_How much longer?"_

"_I give it two days, sir. For getting all the soldiers' weapons and armor, and the like."_

"_Then two days it shall be."_

"_Yes, sir."_


End file.
